


I No Longer Feel I Have To Be James Dean

by justletmegohome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, kinda not really it's all very real and legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justletmegohome/pseuds/justletmegohome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale of how Harry married Louis, the bartender that's nursing his sorrows, three days after getting dumped by his fiance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I No Longer Feel I Have To Be James Dean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildestdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestdreams/gifts).
  * Translation into Polski available: [I no longer feel I have to be James Dean](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292107) by [panika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/panika/pseuds/panika)



> SO my baby is ready to see the world!!
> 
> first of all, i'd like to thank wildestdreams for the prompts. all of them were lovely but this one called for me. i hope you like it!
> 
> second of all, i wanna give a huge thank you to my wonderful and incredible betas: A, C, J and X for putting so much hard work into this fic. without them it would have been an unbearable mess. i owe them the world.
> 
> thrid of all, i took some liberties with the law used in here but i did try to stick with it as close as possible. the wedding ceremony comes from a script that is usually used in the uk.
> 
> and finally, title and louis' song comes from 5 Years Time by Noah And The Whales.
> 
> anyways, here we go!

~~~

_**-3 days.** _

So like, Harry is very drunk. Really drunk. Hammered. Can't see straight without blinking his eyes out. And it's amazing.

Sometimes Harry forgets how blessed he is to have a best friend that owns a bar and allows Harry to have all the pretty, fruity cocktails his fine establishment produces--drinks that come from the rugged as fuck bartender of the week who is nothing short of a god at mixing daiquiris. Ah, the life of ‘Just Got Dumped By My Fiance’ is going pretty swell for Harry right now.

Three hours ago life wasn't going as well, but life is always, always changing. Or maybe it’s love that's always, always changing? Isn't that what Barbara told him when he and Axel fought? Harry’s not sure. Everything is blurry and Barbara's comforts sound the same to him all the goddamn time. But it's okay, it's no big deal. Not as big as Axel breaking up with him via yellowing legal pad in a half empty apartment. Definitely not as big as getting stood up at the altar in front of all his loved ones and not so loved others (as Niall kindly pointed out when Harry called him bawling with snot running down his face). Harry sobbed for another 30 minutes after that comment.

Whatever. The point is that he is going on almost four hours of steadily drinking the best alcohol Niall has to offer and he is doing just fine, thank you very much new bartender with the amazing arms.

"Mate, you can't honestly believe that," says bartender with the cute, feathery hair and amazing biceps and triceps and probably pecs. His melodious voice does its best to be heard over the music Niall has playing in the back of the bar while it thumps on Harry's brain.

It's an admirable effort and Harry should probably lift his head to hear better, but he doesn’t care enough to do it. His tragic situation calls for a free pass.

His favorite bartender with the pretty nose, cute, feathery hair and amazing arms scoffs. "You're like twenty years old, kid. I'm sure there's better fish in the pond for you."

Ugh.

He's so sure of himself. Ha. If only he knew Harry is not into fish, he's into his asshole boyfr-, ex-boyfriend. Yes, ex-boyfriend without the balls to face him before running off with his intern. What a dickhead.

Bartender with the splendid cheekbones (and pretty nose, cute feathery hair and still amazing arms) only shrugs and pours Harry another drink. "Okay but I'm three days away from getting kicked out of my flat 'cause me flatmate’s decided to backpack Europe on a whim and we already were 2 months behind on rent. Plus my landlord hates me. So I'm getting kicked out pretty soon."

Hmm. Yeah, that's a bit shittier. At least Harry got to keep the flat.

"See, you're off to a good start already,"

Harry hums. "Maybe you're- Wait!" Lifting up his head so quickly is a bad idea, but Harry manages to contain his nausea long enough to push words out. "You can read minds? Fuck, can I rest for a second, please?"

Bartender's beautiful face scrunches up real pretty, like he's trying to hold back a smile. Harry needs to see him smile or else he will die. "Easy there, kid. No, I can't read minds. You’ve just been slurring on for ages and it's getting kinda fun trying to figure out what you're saying,"

Oh.

Very carefully, Harry looks over his shoulders to check if that group of girls having drinks in a booth is gone. They are. Gone, that is. Interesting. He then turns to his right to make sure Niall and Barbara are still around, but they aren't. Only the music is left, playing out the speakers connected to his battered Ipod. It’s not that loud, either. Perhaps Harry's hangover is settling in at the moment.

"It's almost 12. On weekdays they close earlier. I clocked out 20 minutes ago, but Niall asked me to keep an eye on you," the most gorgeous bartender in the history of bartenders explains.

Harry sighs, downs his drink in one go, and tries hard to keep his head up. "Okay,"

"Want me to get Niall and Bee? Pretty sure they're snogging in the employee's restroom. Again," he points out, sounding annoyed but his face is a pinch too fond. Good, that's good.

Smacking his lips, Harry attempts to climb down the stool as gracefully as possible, but his feet do the thing where they do not cooperate with what he wants them to do and he ends up tangled on the floor with cool metal poking his lower back. Harry is fine with this series of events. However, the security camera's probably caught his fall and now he'll have to deal with Barbara and Niall sharing the video on Instagram. He's not so fine with that.

There are fingers touching him now, pulling the stool away and rubbing his ankles. How lovely. Axel never wanted to rub Harry's ankles, said he could barely look at Harry's feet, much less touch them. What a giant dickhead.

"Oh god. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" The sweet, worried voice urges him.

"Too many questions," Harry murmurs to the sticky floor that keeps shifting under his chest. Floors are not supposed to do that, it's not a nice quality. Maybe the floor has some personal issues. Harry should not judge.

Someone rolls him over. Harry hopes he's not making an ass of himself in front of the bartender with the delicious collarbones, splendid cheekbones, pretty nose, cute, feathery hair and amazing arms. He's such a lovely bartender.

"Too late for that, kid," the personification of Harry's wildest dreams murmurs before settling a hand on Harry's face. It's warm and a bit rough, but that doesn't stop Harry from nuzzling into it. "I seriously need to know if you're hurt. Don't want you to end up on crutches and cost me this job."

That's a valid concern, but Harry's still offended. "Heeyy," he drawls out. "Not a kid, 'm twenty three. Also, 'm super. Super fine. No one is as fine as-" A hiccup interrupts him. Rude. "As fine as I am."

Open, wholehearted laughter washes over Harry's ears. It feels incredible, helps sooth the pounding inside his skull. "Alright Not-A-Kid, if you're so fine, why don't you open your eyes to let me see if you have a concussion."

Oh yeah, Harry has his eyes closed. He was starting to wonder why everything was so dark. Harry blinks them open and regrets it immediately. The soft orange light coming from the lamps on the ceiling feel like goddamn sun rays attacking him, blinding him until he blinks quickly to get used to it. With a groan he forces his eyes to focus. It's a difficult task, but he gets it done eventually. Seems like the light is sobering him up a tiny little bit, so he takes stock of his body: head hurts like hell, lips are buzzing, neck is all sweaty and gross, limbs are tingling, stomach is flipping on itself, and his ass aches bad. And not the good kind of ache, which sucks.

"Not so fine now, are you kid?"

Nope. He regrets every life choice that led him to this moment. Including the one he makes right now to turn his face and look at the lovely, caring bartender. He regrets it so much when he catches those shiny blue eyes, full of mirth and framed by a pair of stunning eyelashes that go on for miles. And those lips, holy shit those have to be the best lips Harry has laid eyes on. Not to mention how the all the features Harry has been drooling over look so much better up close. Is one supposed to find someone this attractive mere hours after breaking off one's engagement?

A rueful grin lights up the bartender's features. "Hi," he says softly.

Harry takes a second to lift up a finger and ask for a moment, which he uses roll over and then proceeds to puke up every drink and meal he had during the day. People tell Harry he's a charmer, but he bets they haven't seen this particular move before. "Oops," he slurs and passes out.

~~~

_**-2 days** _

Waking up with the taste of vomit in his mouth on the wet tiles of a strange bathroom floor, wearing just his tiny pink briefs, is not unusual to Harry. He even has a routine to follow to put himself and his shit together. 99% of the time he gets out of wherever he was without an awkward exchange of pleasantries no one cared about. 1% of the time he got breakfast and round number two. In fact, this happened quite often before he settled down with Axel.

Axel left, though.

Holy fucking shit Axel left him. It wasn't a dream, Axel actually left him in the middle of planning their wedding. The bastard left him on a fucking Wednesday night via legal pad and not even in person.

Harry is not sad anymore, not like last night. Now, he sees red, fury tainting his vision with angry tears. That only manages to piss him off even more because Axel is a piece of shit that does not deserve Harry crying over his absolute stupidity. Or at least that's what Gemma would say. It doesn't stop him from sobbing as he finishes emptying his stomach in the toilet placed conveniently by his head.

He just. Doesn't understand, can't wrap his mind around the fact that while he was picking swatches for their napkins Axel was probably trying to figure out a way to breakup. His thoughts stray to Axel, the man he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with, sitting on their sofa with the legal pad Harry used for the grocery list, writing down every reason that made him realize he couldn't (or wouldn't) wait long enough for Harry to come back from work and say goodbye properly. As if what they had was a one night quickie and not a three year relationship.

Shit. His heart actually aches more than his head.

Sore bones and all, Harry picks himself up and lets his toes catch the cold tiles as he breathes in deeply. He is not ready to face the world. Hell, he is not even ready to touch the knob and step out of the bathroom, but he's gotta do it. Whoever has a poster of Grease on top of their toilet won't appreciate Harry hiding out in their bathroom. This is not the place to have the existential crisis that has been boiling under Harry's skin since last night.

Everything feels surreal when he opens the door. There's nothing, or no one, waiting outside for him. Harry is not sure if it disappoints him, so he tries to not dwell on it. Clothes are his main concern at the moment. He needs to find clothes, figure out where he is, call Niall, and wash his mouth. Thinking of what happens after washing his mouth gives Harry a pang on his temple, so he decides to put those decisions on the backburner for now.

Harry walks into the silent hallway and debates which route to choose. Either right to the small living room sans necessities, or left to a tiny table glinting under the early sunrays.

On a whim, he picks right and walks into the living and there's no one there. Or anything, really so he goes back to where he started and turns left, to find himself in front of a very pretty boy that's sitting on top of the kitchen counter, clutching a bowl of cereal in his hands and sporting terrible bed hair that strangely flatters him. The whole look reminds Harry of Peter Pan for some reason. Well, if Peter Pan was all tatted up and chose to wear the softest sweats and the white tee that Harry had on like 12 hours ago.

Holy fucking shit he fucked Peter Pan last night.

"Did we have sex?" Harry blurts out before he can stop himself. He can feel his jaw dropping open, and slaps his hand in front of his mouth before he asks something even more ridiculous and embarrassing.

Pretty Peter Pan smirks as he chews his Cocoa Puffs. "Harry, you puked three inches away from my face. Of course we didn't have sex."

His whole world stops. If his life was a rom-com this is where the montage of small disasters cues in, like a cat yowling or plates shattering, and Harry feels likes he is going to faint any second now.

Oh my god. He threw up in front of the prettiest boy, this is so mortifying. It's like his high school years all over again--what the actual fuck. "Wait, wait. If we didn't have sex how do you know my name?"

Peter Pan smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, looking delighted at explaining what Harry is sure will be a story that will force him to change his name. "Yeah, you talk in third person when you're drunk. It's adorable. Had a lot of nice adjectives to wax poetry about me, too."

Harry will dig a hole in his mother's backyard and stay there for the rest of his life, and some time after that. His mum is surely going to understand. "I'm so sorry. I was having a bad night and I lose my brain to mouth filter after the fourth daiquiri and I'm sure that whatever I said came from a good place but then again I was, am, pretty bitter about... stuff and I'm deeply sorry, please don't sue me."

Peter Pan is grinning like Harry told him he just won the lottery. Normal people usually throw the nearest object at Harry in the hopes that he shuts up before they grow old and childless. This is how Harry knows this boy is a psychopath and he needs to get the fuck out of here. Fast. Before his family finds out about his brutal death in the 5 o'clock news.

Harry swallows and looks for a nice exit that won't lead him to a fridge full of body parts. "Anyways, I uhm, I'll go. Thanks for letting me crash in your bathroom, uhm..."

"Louis," he, Louis, informs Harry with his chiseled chin propped up on his palm. Harry notes said palm is attached to a very delicate looking wrist decorated with a tattoo that makes his mouth water and his eyes travel down to the bulging bicep.

His brain shortcuts for a little while, too. "What?"

"Louis, my name is. You asked for it after you forced me to pet your hair in the cab, but I can't blame you for not remembering." Right, this incredibly pretty and confusingly weird boy that talks in half sentences is teasing Harry. Mocking him, actually, but for some reason (probably his raging hangover) Harry doesn't mind. How can he when the glint in Louis' eyes grows brighter as Harry's cheeks get warmer.

Sadly, Harry still has some sense of self preservation that leads him to hum in a valid attempt not to groan out in embarrassment. He is the face of cool and collected. "Louis, nice to meet you. Thanks for everything. Thanks a lot, I just, need my clothes and phone and I'll get out of your hair. Sorry for being a bother."

Louis waves him off, nose doing this cute little scrunch that has Harry's insides wobbling. "It's fine, kid. Don't worry about it, you were a delight to have around. But, I'm afraid your clothes are in the wash and ruined for life."

That's no good. "Ruined?"

"Yup," Louis says and finishes off his cereal, pushing the bowl aside and smiling brilliantly at Harry. "There was sick all over them, I couldn't save them."

If Harry remembered what exactly he was wearing last night, he'd probably feel a bit sad but Louis' mere presence dilutes everything around them. Frankly, he has spent a lot of money on his tattoos and any time is good to show them off (such as now, standing almost naked in this boy's kitchen). The police might not agree with him if he walks out shirtless into the streets of London.

Louis sighs. "You ripping them off your body didn't help much either."

Harry gasps. "I did?"

Louis nods solemnly, climbing off the counter to step closer to Harry. "You did, said it was too hot. And I took you to the bathroom so you could wash your mouth, but you fell asleep on the floor and Niall told me not to wake you if you did."

That's when Harry takes a closer look, now that he has Louis in his personal space, and confirms he is wearing Harry's tee from last night. "Okay, but why are you wearing my shirt?" Harry asks with narrowed eyes. He can't put that much feeling into it, though. Not when Louis' collarbones look that spectacular.

Louis smirks again. He seems to do that a lot. "Well, dear Harold, someone had to make sure you didn't ruin all of your clothes."

Harry barks out a laugh, his chest exploding with something warm for this stranger that's slowly but surely stealing the remaining bits of Harry's broken heart. "Fair enough. Thanks a lot Louis."

"Don't mention it, kid." Patting his arm, Louis walks past him and into the hallway with a spring on his step. "Now come along, we need to get you cleaned up."

Louis treats Harry with spare clothes and toothbrush to wash up while he throws some breakfast together for him. He's very lovely about it, so much that Harry actually forgets this isn't a normal day in his life. Which is kind of unsettling, but at least he's not crying his eyes out to breakup songs as he scrolls through old pictures of Axel. All in all, this day is turning out to be better than expected. Cold water does wonders for his mood and the clothes Louis gave him helps to keep him grounded, too. There's a green sweater that smells like menthols and vanilla when he puts it on, and the trackies that are short on Harry's legs feel surprisingly soft, and Louis' shampoo smells like citrus and helps Harry get back into his own skin.

By the time he walks out of his shower, Louis is there to greet him with toast and tea, and Harry's stomach gurgles in appreciation. It makes Louis smile.

"You really don't have to do any of this, Louis. I can call a cab and get out of your hair as soon as possible."

Louis levels with him an unimpressed stare. "Shut up and eat, kid," he pushes Harry unceremoniously into a stool and hums in satisfaction as Harry sips the warm tea. "Niall called while you showered, told me to tell you he's ready to bust out the windows of Axel's car when you feel like coming back out to the real world."

Oh. Axel. The real world. Harry feels extremly not ready to face either of those things yet.

Louis apparently sees that on Harry's face, because he pets his curls quickly and offers him an apologetic grimace. "Orrrr, you could just stay here and Not Talk about whatever's going on with your life. I've been told that ignoring problems is a skill I'm particularly good at."

Good god, Louis is too sweet. There's no way Harry is walking out of here with a clear mind. A testament to that is how he's perfectly comfortable with Louis tugging gently his hair when usually he hates how strangers touch it without permission. "I- I think I would like that, yeah." He looks up to meet Louis' worried gaze, but he can't stand to see those blue eyes zeroing on him like that, so he focuses on his toast instead.

Louis bumps their shoulders together, energy buzzing off him. "It's decided then! We can start watching Daredevil, yeah? We'll have loads of fun, kid, there's no need to worry that pretty little head of yours."

"You don't have work or anything? Won't Niall need you at the bar?" Harry wonders out loud.

"Nah, that's not my real job," Louis explains, shaking his head. "I'm a songwriter, but I kind of needed the money from tips and Niall needed help while they find a new bartender so, I stepped in."

A memory from last night blooms in Harry's head. He looks up at Louis with wide eyes. "Oh my god. You said your landlord was kicking you out! I can't possibly stay here, Lou. You have to pack! Find somewhere to crash! Oh god, you are being too nice to me."

Something softens on Louis' face. Harry can hear his breath hitching before Louis purses his lips, only to smooth them out into a sugary smile that has Harry's insides melting. "We can figure that out later. Right now, we have to stuff you full of ice cream and fit superheroes."

No, Harry is not having this. Louis is too nice for his own good, and Harry is not going to take advantage of that. Pushing his plate away, Harry turns to face Louis and tries to convey his best 'stern' look, but it only serves to make Louis' smile widen. "Louis, you don't even know me. I could be a serial killer and you wouldn't even noti-"

"Serial killers don't claim to be serial killers, Harold," Louis interrupts with amusement laced in his voice.

Harry sighs, exasperated. "I"m serious! You don't even know my last name! I don't even know yours!"

Louis catches Harry's wrists in his hands. Fuck, Harry didn't realize he was freaking out all over Louis' space. This is a disaster already, Louis probably finds him weird or something. "Hey, hey, it's alright kid. Calm down, it's alright." Louis murmurs, rubbing circles with his thumb on Harry's wrist, trying to comfort him.

And that's it, that's what breaks Harry. He just bursts out in tears because this perfect stranger is showering him in more attention and affection than Axel did in the last three months of their relationship. If only Gemma could see him now, seeking comfort from a random guy he met less than a day ago.

"I'm sorry, I just." Harry breathes in and tries to blink away his tears. "Everything is a mess, and I can't understand why you keep calling me kid or trying to help me. Nothing makes sense anymore. A day ago I was kissing my fiance good morning before going out to send our Save The Date cards, and today I'm sobbing in the kitchen of some guy I puked on last night." And now he's venting to a stranger. What the actual fuck is wrong with him.

Louis, to his credit, doesn't kick Harry out after he's done rambling. "Listen, yesterday you were in pretty bad shape. And that Axel guy sounds like a real scumbag. I mean, who would even dare to hurt someone like you? An idiot, that's who."

Harry frowns. See, this is exactly what he meant, he doesn't get Louis at all. "So you pity me. Is that it? You just have some kind of superhero complex."

Louis blows out a breath and lets go of his wrists, placing them on Harry's lap. His voice so goddamn earnest when he speaks again. "You should've seen yourself, Harry. You were so heart broken. I couldn't leave you there, not like that. Niall thought it would be a good idea to bring you home, but, if you wanna leave, just say the words and I'll call a cab,"

The thing is, Harry actually believes every word that's coming out of Louis' mouth, which is terrifying. And he really hates doing this, but Harry's brain compares it to how Axel used to speak to him, and it's so different. Axel would have never taken the time to hear everything Harry had to say, and Harry's first instinct was to always second guess every move Axel made. But standing here, now, in a place he's never been before, Harry sees how truly fucked up they were.

"I'm being very rude," Harry states after a bitter chuckle.

A quiet laugh leaves Louis' mouth. "In my honest opinion, I think you're handling better than anyone I've ever known. And my mum got left at the altar twice."

Wow. Harry would change his name and move to Netherlands if that happened to him. "That's- fuck. She's alright?"

"Yeah, tough as nails, me mum is," Louis scratches the back of his neck, looking nervous, Harry feels like crap for it. "So, what'ya say kid? Want me to call you a cab?"

Does Harry want Louis to call a cab and drive him off to a life that is no longer his? It should be a hard question to answer, but the truth is: No, Harry doesn't want that. He wants to stay here, with Louis and his kind words and brilliant smiles until he forgets he even had a life out there, outside of this half empty flat. The realization should hit Harry like a truck or a ton of bricks, when in fact, it does the exact opposite. It takes off a small part of the weight that has been sinking his stomach.

Harry musters up his best convincing smile, and faces Louis' hopeful features. "Gonna have to admit, stuffing ourselves full of ice cream and fit superheroes sounds too tempting to pass."

Louis beams from ear to ear, expression changing immediately and Harry's blood rushes to his cheeks from having all that brightness directed at him. "That's the spirit, kid!"

***

While Louis sorts out their day, he directs Harry to his cell phone. "Plugged it in after you passed out. Figured you'd want to make some calls in the morning," Louis said with a bashful shrug as he threw pillows and blankets on the mattress in the middle of the living room. There really isn't much in the room, just a couple of notebooks laying around along with a worn out guitar that seems to be missing a case. There's not even a lamp or a light bulb, just a string of Christmas lights illuminates the room. It's all very pop punk. Harry appreciates a solid aesthetic when he sees it.

"You don't have a couch," Harry points out rather dumbly. Of course Louis knows he doesn't own a couch, he lives here.

Louis makes a face that has no right to be as adorable as it is. "Nah, I don't. My old roommate sold it to buy his plane ticket."

That's right, Harry remembers now. "Left to backpack Europe? I think you mentioned it?"

Louis lights up at that, looking up from the cocoon of blankets he has built. "I did mention it! Just before you fell off the stool and gave me a bloody heart attack."

He fell off the stool. Harry fell off the stool in front of the fittest boy he has ever met. This just helps to confirm Harry's theory about how much the universe hates him. "I'm gonna need you to stop talking to me about the things I did or said last night, please." He turns around to hide his blush. Louis doesn't have to see this, too. Harry probably already broke some kind of record for getting the largest amounts of snot and puke all over an attractive stranger. Still, he can't help but sneak a peek over his shoulder to see Louis' reaction.

Louis fakes a pout, blue eyes bulging out, and it manages to kill Harry in an instant. "But you're so cute when you blush, kid."

Harry's throat closes up before he embarrasses himself into his next lifetime. "I hate you," he squeaks out at Louis' replying snort.

With a sigh, Harry tries to find a room where he can unlock his phone and have a breakdown in peace. He can already picture his mum's worried texts, and the entirely unnecessary fifty missed calls from his sister and Lou and James and Nick and Alexa and everyone else that was too involved in his relationship. Harry would rather flush his phone down the toilet, to be honest.

The first open door leads him to a room that's covered ceiling to floor in spray paint doodles, but only holds a dusty keyboard. It'll do the trick.

Harry sits on the floor and breathes in. Better to do this sooner rather than later, then. Punching in his code, the first and only thing Harry sees is a text from Niall.

Call me whn ya can !

And that's it. That's all there is.

A rush of cold runs through Harry's spine. Hell, what if he made it all up? Drank too much and had a weird dream? God, he really fucked up this time. He presses Niall's number for speed dial and waits for his best friend to pick up the phone.

It takes three and a half rings for his voice to reach Harry's ears. "Good morning, sunshine," Niall coos, way too cheerful.

"Shut up and tell me what happened last night," Harry demands.

Niall snickers, it makes Harry scowl. "You got sick on Louis. Barbs felt so bad she had to pay him two shifts. Also, you owe her money."

Harry groans, exasperated. "I know I puked on Louis, he told me. What I wanna know is, uhm. The thing with Axel. I wanna know if that really happened."

The line goes quiet for a second too long, and somehow that gives Harry all the answers he didn't want to know. "I'm sorry, Harry. Axel left."

Harry blinks, presses the heel of his palm against his eyes and takes a moment to calm down. He can do this. He's going to do this.

"Barbs called him, yesterday. Yelled at him for ages, and made him promise to not tell anyone until you're ready."

"He promised to marry me, what makes you think he's gonna do whatever Barbs says," Harry scoffs.

Niall hums in agreement but he adds, "She threatened to fill up his office with burnt dog poo."

Harry laughs in delight. Of course she did, which is why if Niall and Barbara ever break up, Harry is siding with her in the divorce. "He did love his office more than our house."

Niall grunts, annoyed. The sound warms Harry's heart. "He's trash, Harry. Has been for quite a while now, so just focus on yourself, yeah? We've got your back, pal."

Fuck, if Harry wasn't so exhausted, he'd walk to the other side of town and into Niall's flat to hug him until they both can’t breathe. "Dunno where I'd be without you, Ni."

"I do. You'd still be in that bakery flirting with old ladies so they give you extra tips and let you babysit their grandkids for ridiculous prices."

Actually, nevermind, Niall isn’t worth the walk. "Every day I despise you more,"

"Love ya too! But tell me, how's the Tommo treating you?"

"The Tommo?"

He can't see Niall, but Harry is sure he's rolling his eyes. Harry is so sure he's willing to bet his left arm. "Yes, Harry. The Tommo. Louis. Apparently you ripped off your clothes in his doorway."

"I- yeah. Why are you calling him Tommo, though? What kind of last name is that."

"He came with that name, mate. If you're so curious ask his mum."

Niall doesn't need to be like this. "You're the one that hired him to look after your bar, you should know his last name."

"All I know is that he's friends with the guy that's dating one of Barbs' friends, and I honestly don't care as long as he knows how the make a drink and isn’t an asshole to you. Is he being an asshole to you?"

"No he isn't," Harry responds quickly. "He's great, he's really great. Keeps calling me kid. Think I could just like, sit and admire what he's like." The words slip freely past his lips, which is just perfect. There's no way Niall would miss an opportunity to tease him about that.

Niall just clears his throat though, which is weird. He never wastes an opportunity to tease Harry about his word vomit. "Yup, know that. Been meaning to tell you about him for ages but you were so busy with the wedding stuff and I knew you'd never listen to me."

The wedding stuff. "Fuck, Niall. The wedding! I have to cancel everything. I need to ask the caterers for my money back and I need to call the venue to see if I can have a refund, but I don't think I can though. Axel was always rude with the owner 'cause he thought he was flirting with me. And the flower shop, god. A friend of Robin's was supposed to make the arrangements, so there's no way I can cancel the order without my family finding out." Harry feels the air lodged in his lungs. "Oh my god, I fucking hate Axel."

"Are you done yet?"

"What is that supposed to mean? I took time off my job and now I have to cancel everything!" Harry's raising his voice, he's aware of this, but that doesn't stop him.

"Told you already, Harry, we're gonna take care of it," Niall tsks, but doesn't raise his voice, and Harry feels bad. He owes Niall so much. "You can fall off the face of the earth for as long as you need to. I know you're in good hands. Plus, Dylan is helping cancel plans, too. It's part of the deal Barbs made with him."

Dylan, Axel's new, bloody boyfriend. Harry always picked up lunch for him whenever he visited Axel. Now Dylan, the man Axel's running away with, is going to tear apart what was supposed to be the most perfect day of Harry's life.

There's vile coming up Harry's throat, but he speaks out anyways. "I don't want that. I did all of that on my own, and I did it cause I loved it. I don't want them to touch that part, Niall, please."

Niall's voice shakes as he answers. "Anything you want, bud."

"Thank you, I uhm, have to go. Louis said something about watching Daredevil," Harry has to find a way to have conversations without yelling about Axel, and he really doesn't want to have a falling out with Niall, that would just be a disaster.

Niall's been around since Harry was twelve. He know every one of his tricks, and Harry's convinced he understands him better than Harry understands himself. "Okay, text me when you can. I'll keep you updated."

Harry is about to hang up when he hears Barbara's faint voice. "Bye jerk! I love you! Say hi to Louis!" His heart fills up a little with how much he loves them.

Harry's phone beeps as he's standing with shallow breaths and wobbly legs. It's a text from his group chat with Niall and Barbara.

_pls dont fuck louis tho. he can be irresistible but ur head is not in the game bebs_

**B stpo tryin t scold h wth hsm songs ,**

Good to know they're still willing to tease him.

_fight me nail_

Harry giggles. Niall and Barbara can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but they save his life almost daily. Niall was right, Harry would still be stuck living off tips from grannies if it weren't for them.

Love both of you so much. Thank you for everything xx

yeah yeah , just dont fcuk tommo !

Ha! As if he has the energy to ruin the only nice thing in his life right now. He'd never fuck Louis, not while Harry is an emotional, unstable mess.

(But you would fuck him, Harry. A tiny voice inside his head mocks him. You do want to fuck him. The little voice sounds a lot like Barbara.)

But it seems like the universe has it's own theories to prove about Harry, because as soon as he goes back to the make-shift living room, his breath is brutally sucked out of his lungs. It takes everything in Harry's power to stop himself from clutching his chest and (dramatically) falling over.

Even if he did, it would be understandable because there he is, Louis, in all his sleep soft beauty with his knees pressing to his chest and a thin, green notebook between them. His face is schooled into a focused expression, but it just endears Harry to the point of actual cooing. He coos at Louis. And Louis looks up, a dazzling grin reaching the crinkles of his eyes and- shit. Holy shit, those are glasses. Louis is wearing glasses and he looks too precious to be breathing the same air as Harry and the universe wants Harry dead.

"My last name is Tomlinson," Louis says.

Harry abruptly pulls his head out of his ass. "What?"

Louis cackles, the frames of his glasses pushing up the bridge of his pretty nose, and Harry does his best to not gape at him. "That's why people call me Tommo, because of my last name."

Damnnit. "Tell me you didn't hear all of that," Harry flushes all the way to his toes, and that's a scientific fact.

Louis hesitates, unsure of how to reply. "Not all of it, just the start. Paper thin walls. Got meself busy after that," he waves the notebook for emphasis.

Harry doesn't have much to add without further embarrassing himself, so he decides to leave it at that. "You're writing a song, then?"

"I am," Louis agrees and pats the mattress by his side, inviting Harry to join his little nest of pillows.

To Harry's disbelief (and mild pleasure), Louis is even more gorgeous up close. He's one of those people that glows by just being. Getting to be this close sends small waves of thrill down his fingertips. "Hopefully it's not a song about a boy that got dumped and invaded your flat."

Louis laughs, and it sounds like the twinkling of stars. Harry feels a sense of pride for causing it. "That one would win lots of Grammys, wouldn't it?"

"Course it would! Just remember to give me a shoutout on your winner's speech." Look at Harry, making jokes about his tragic life. Someone should pat his back or give him some gold stickers.

Putting his notebook aside, Louis pulls a battered laptop from the covers and settles it on his lap. "Ready, kid? Gonna have to scoot over if you wanna see Matt Murdock kicking ass."

Harry giggles and his body reacts before his brain so by the time he realizes what he's doing, Louis and Harry's shoulders are touching and there's silly smiles on their faces as the Marvel credits roll in.

***

They're three episodes in and Harry still has no idea what the show is about.

Because apparently he has no control of his brain or emotions or anything, really, he tries to remember the last time he and Axel did this, just sat and enjoyed something. No cancelling meetings to fit in a thirty minute lunch, or Axel's phone vibrating constantly on the table as he woke up too early to make coffee so he had the chance to kiss Axel goodbye.

Nothing about their life was simple, not like this. Not like sharing space just for the sake of it instead of spending time together because they had to. It leaves Harry feeling angry, at the world, at Axel, at the people that were around them and saw how much of a mess they were but said nothing. But mainly, he's mad with himself for letting it drag out the way it did, for being so caught up in a perfect bubble and completely blind to the obvious warning signs.

It's just weird, having this moment of perfect peace with someone he hardly knows. So weird, in fact, that he can't stop analyzing it. After two episodes, he's convinced this must be weird for Louis too, and that he's just waiting for the right time to kick Harry out.

But then Harry looks at Louis. And that's it, game over. All those thought fly out of his head.

Louis is completely into the show. His eyes track the on-screen movements and his breath hitches every time a character is pelted and groans from the blow. Also, Louis touches himself. A lot. If his fingers aren't pulling on his lip, he's licking it. If he's surprised by something he holds onto his breast, one hand always rubbing tiny circles on his belly and it's just. Overwhelming. Harry tries to tear his eyes away from the way the soft, multicolored lights cast long, eyelash shadows on his cheekbones, but he can't look away. He just doesn't possess that kind of strength.

This immediate attraction should worry him, but how could it when he's so focused on how ethereal Louis looks.

Harry can't have nice things though, so obviously he starts to think about how soft Louis' lips look, and how nice they would feel on Harry's fingers, or his mouth, or his cock. Then suddenly, that's all he can think about--Louis' skin pressed to Harry's, his fingers trailing Harry's body, Louis' incredibly beautiful eyes focused entirely on him.

"Y'alright, kid?" Louis' voice cuts through his thoughts.

Harry's heart stops, afraid that his thoughts were written on his face. Surely it has to be obvious, Harry was never good at hiding emotions. "Yes. Yeah. I'm fine." He's not fine, he's really not fine.

God knows what he sees as Louis studies him for a couple of seconds, but he only hums and pauses the show. "You look kinda hungry," Louis muses, and Harry can feel his eye twitching. "Let me get that ice cream I promised you real quick."

Louis dashes out, just leaves him there to faceplant in the mound of pillows. Which is an insanely bad idea because they smell just like Louis. Harry's dick twitches inside the trackies Louis lent him. Fuck fuck fuck.

He doesn't even try to adjust himself because Louis is back, talking loudly about the goddamn ice cream flavor, and Harry can only hear the sound of his own blood rushing, his heartbeat echoing inside his ribcage. His dick is starting to strain against the velvety fabric of his pants.

Louis nudges him, so he has to sit up and accept the bowl he thrusts in his hands. And Harry wants to feel bad, let the record show that he wants to feel guilty, because he thought he loved Axel, and now he can’t even find the energy to be heartbroken. Louis is making it very hard for Harry to remember what he was so upset about. Literally. Very hard.

Harry lifts his gaze from the red ice cream swirls when Louis speaks. "The littlest of my sisters, Dottie, loves this flavor. Used to feed it to her all the time when she was a baby. When I get homesick, I’ll run out and buy some to feel better."

Harry whimpers internally. Why is getting punished now, what has he done to deserve this? He's sure he’ll walk out of this house with spoiled teeth because Louis is just too sweet.

And, just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, Louis directs his angelic smile right at him, and pats Harry's thigh. He doesn’t move it, just leaves his hand there so the weight of it is the only thing Harry can focus on. Louis presses play on the show, and wiggles and wiggles until their sides are touching again. Harry knows there's ice cream melting in his hands and knows Louis is bound to notice all he has been doing is sitting still and staring at him half hard. But, it's like Harry’s been put under a spell and can't bring himself to care as long as Louis keeps squeezing his thigh and drawing little shapes with his fingers. Hell, his dick isn't even flagging down and Harry is content enough to admire the slope of Louis' nose and the bow of his lips.

He hasn't felt like this in so long, just high on someone's presence. Not even with Axel, where he always had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t annoying him. It makes him crave for more.

Louis blinks, and Harry wishes he had photographic memory to keep this moment saved for a rainy day. Louis turns to look at him, a glint in his eyes and mouth open, ready to say something except there's no sound. He doesn't say a word, only raises his eyebrows when he seizes Harry's face and nods. It's just a tiny movement, he wouldn't have seen it if Harry had dared to look away; it could mean anything, could mean nothing at all, but Harry sees the chance and lunges to snatch it.

Their lips touch, barely, and it's electrifying enough to the point where it feels too good to be true. If he craved this before, he is going to go crazy for it now.

He registers Louis moving to grab whatever Harry was holding, it doesn't matter, he couldn’t care less. He just wants to collide with Louis, wants to kiss him properly until stars and the glint of his blue eyes are the only things he can remember.

Finally, finally, Louis gives back as much as Harry was trying to give him. His callused fingers dance around the back of Harry's neck. They're wet and cold, and it forces a shiver from Harry as Louis finds a grip on his hair and pulls him closer, the pace of their kiss staying gentle. Louis is taking his time, keeps it to small, delicate brushes that allow Harry to taste the sweetness of his mouth. It's so painfully slow, like dripping honey, Harry loves it.

Louis gives in first, pulls away just as Harry opens his eyes to see how Louis struggles to open his own. Harry finds his hand around Louis' wrist, can feel his bones shifting and his pulse beating at a speed Harry can't count but can match. His other hand is clutching Louis', their fingers intertwining flawlessly by their sides. Louis’ laugh floods his senses and tunes him back into the real world as he fills with dread.

What the fuck are they doing?

Louis is laughing at him.

What if Louis doesn't want this?

What if I don't want this?

Harry searches for Louis' gaze, stays very still 'till Louis meets his and he can see the utter glee shining through. And nope, that settles it, then. Harry wants this. Harry wants this more than anything.

"We really shouldn't be doing this, kid," Louis says between giggles and pecking Harry’s face.

It must be contagious, the fit Louis is having, because Harry starts giggling, too, as if little bubbles of happiness are trying to escape his throat. "Not that important, as long as we both want it, yeah?"

Louis bumps their foreheads together, smiling breathlessly. Harry already feels addicted to Louis’ tinkling laugh. "Yeah," he answers. "But yesterday you were planning your wedding. This has to be mental for you," Louis explains softly, afraid to hurt him.

So what. So fucking what. Harry has been living too long trying to please others, to fit inside the little box they make for him without question. This is something he wants, something he needs. This is something good he is choosing for himself. Yes, it is mental, but who honestly gives a fuck? Not him, not as long as it's good for Louis, too, and he can have everything Louis is willing to give.

Groaning, Harry shakes his head, not sure how to make Louis understand. "Yesterday, I was someone else. Today I want this, want you."

Louis stammers, giving Harry time to notice his kiss-swollen lips and the faint blush dusting his cheeks. How did Harry meet someone this beautiful? "I get you, ki-"

Harry titters, high on the rush Louis gives him. "Just kiss me, will ya?"

Louis doesn't need to be told twice. He tucks himself into the space between their bodies with a buzzing smile, kissing Harry's own. It feels ridiculously amazing, with Louis stroking his hair now and Harry's hand wandering about Louis' chest, his hummingbird heartbeats pushing on Harry's palm.

He allows himself to get lost in this madness, his skin heating up more with every second that passes with Louis' attention on him. It helps loads that Louis is a great kisser. He knows when to give and when to take, keeping Harry on the brink of something he's never had before, not quite like this.

They let it flow.

One minute it's all very tender and sweet, the next it gets heated and rough. Louis sucks on Harry's bottom lip, nipping it whenever Harry starts to get breathless. Louis uses that to lick into his mouth, and Harry whines, pushing himself closer to Louis and their hips bump, causing them both to hiss. Louis is half hard, too, and he bucks into Harry's crotch instinctively, chasing friction. Harry is very happy with these series of events. Louis grunts, and detaches himself from Harry to crawl down the mattress, dragging him along. Harry can hear the laptop falling on the floor and catches a glimpse of Louis' glasses following. And that's a pity, really, but he only has eyes for Louis and the way Harry's shirt hangs off him, his sharp collarbones scooping out to show off a nice chest piece. His mouth waters at the look of determination on Louis' face.

"Harry," Louis' voice is raspy, but commanding. He waits for Harry to focus on him. "We're not gonna take this too far, if we're doing this. I'll give you whatever you want, just no sex, yeah?"

Harry pouts and yeah, okay, he can see where Louis is coming from but-

Louis moves to his side, drapes himself on one half of Harry's body, his hands latching in his hair immediately to angle his head. He just hovers, and the argument Harry had on the tip of his tongue flies off out the window. "Let's just have fun, no one's rushing here." He kisses away Harry's pout and pulls away to press his lips to the corner of his mouth.

Harry follows him, sits up and rests on his forearms while Louis sucks on his jaw and neck. He throws his head back, gives Louis more canvas and shivers when his scruff scrapes against the small spots already left on him.

Louis latches onto the joint where his neck and shoulder meet, digging his teeth in only to sooth the soreness with laps of his tongue. He does this until he prompts an embarrassingly high whine from Harry, which makes him laugh breathlessly on Harry's shoulder. His heart needs to learn it’s not okay to leap when Louis does, well, anything.

"Lou," Harry breathes out the moment he feels Louis' fingers sliding under his borrowed jumper, tickling his belly and leaving ghost touches that raise goosebumps in their wake. "Lou, c'mon. C'mon please."

Louis hides a smirk in one of the marks he left. "I'm in the middle of something kid." And yes, this is true. He’s doing quite a number on the expense of skin he has access to, blunt nails raking on Harry's hips, pulling them with him as if he attached strings to them.

"No, c'mon... I'm too hot Lou," Harry's starting to feel a little clammy, or maybe it's just the urge he has to touch Louis a bit more clawing it's way up his senses.

"I may not be wearing my glasses but I do have eyes, Harry," Louis teases with a snicker.

"God, you're the worst," Harry complains, flustered.

"Thank you, I do my best," Louis replies, deeply satisfied with himself.

Harry wants to scold him, tell him very explicitly how he could put that mouth to good use, but he looks too damn stunning to even attempt to be angry at for longer than 3.4 seconds. ''Just get me out of these clothes you sadist."

"Oi! A little eager aren't we, darling?"

_Darling_

Harry nods quickly. No point in lying when all he wants is for Louis to mark every inch of his body with his perfect mouth.

Louis' grin shimmers in the twinkling lights, and Harry's vision goes hazy. "Okay, let's get this off you, then." And with that, he places a mellow kiss on Harry's cheek before pulling off his own shirt and Harry's hoodie.

Time stops, and it's so very cheesy, really. If Harry was watching this from like, another body, he'd probably roll his eyes at how they both stop breathing and just appreciate each other's bodies (he'd keep watching, though, if only for the mirroring looks of wonder in their eyes).

Louis' body is lithe, skin golden with the stark contrast of his tattoos, which consist of a variety of small doodles and some real beautiful animals. If it weren't for Harry's selfish dick, he'd stare at Louis' body all day long. No pee breaks allowed, even.

Harry comes back to Earth when he feels Louis' fingertips skimming all over his pecs and torso. He looks very interested in the ferns that adorn Harry's hipbones. "Like what you see?"

Louis' raises one eyebrow at him. "Absolutely, I could just sit here and admire what you're like."

Harry's jaw drops. "You said you didn't hear that!"

There's mischief in Louis' voice as settles back down by Harry's side, murmuring, "was saving it up to make you blush. I love the way you get all pink and pretty." He's so mean, but he starts sucking on Harry's earlobe, and that makes up for it a bit.

Harry has no option but to moan and clutch Louis' shoulder, finding leverage so he can rut against Louis' thigh. "Think you're- fuck. You’re much prettier."

"Yeah?"

Closing his eyes, Harry leans in to kiss Louis' skin and, honestly, he shouldn't melt like he does when he notices the freckles on his shoulder. "Yes. Handsome, too. And manly, and rugged."

That startles a laugh out of Louis. Harry doubts he'll ever get sick of doing that. "Compliments will get you anywhere, kid."

"Will it get your pants off?"

"You're gonna be a handful," Louis tells him with a put-upon sigh following.

Louis is honestly handing Harry possibilities for puns on silver platter. He pulls back to force Louis' eyes on him. He smiles ruefully and countering, "I suggest you take off my pants and find out for yourself." He throws in a wink for good measure.

Louis' face does this weird thing where he tries to hold back a smile, but can't resist Harry's terrible come ons, so he just ends up looking like a gooey mess. "If I suck you off, will you shut up?"

Harry's mouth snaps closed so quick he briefly worries about injuries.

Louis scrunches up his nose, shakes his head, and kisses Harry's temple. "You're going to kill me, kid."

***

Harry comes too fast. He could blame it on the fact he had been going on without sex that didn't involve his hand and, occasionally, his vibrator for two months straight. He could blame it that thing Louis did with his tongue on the head of Harry's dick right before he came. He could blame it on how much Louis teased him and his nipples before he even pulled down his pants. But, to be frank, he comes so fast because Louis looks so good on his knees, wiggly bum up in the air and his snarky mouth stuffed full of Harry's cock. The thing he did with his tongue helped a lot, too.

Coming down from his orgasm, Harry glances to see Louis' wet, long eyelashes blinking up at him, his lips red and used, and he's panting from how much Harry wrecked him. His face is also quite smug for someone who just swallowed all that cum without pulling away. Huh… maybe that's why he looks so smug.

"You're awful," Harry mumbles and stretches a forearm across his eyelids. Damn, he feels like he just ran a marathon.

"I'm not doing anything," Louis squeaks, indignated.

Harry bets he still looks smug anyways. "Wipe that smile off your face. I'll sue you with attempted murder if you don't stop."

"No can do, kid. Gotta wipe off your spunk first."

Rolling over, Harry groans. He feels tingly just from remembering how Louis' eyes watered as Harry came down his throat. His over-sensitive dick does not like that. "Stop calling me kid, you just had my cock in your mouth."

Louis sits on the slope of Harry's back and tugs on his curls, his thigh bracketing Harry's ribs, his knobby knees and toes digging into Harry's flesh. He's a menace. "What do you prefer then? Love is too used. Babycakes sounds like something a teenage couple would call each other if they just moved in together, and sweetcheeks sounds equally atrocious. Dear is what old married couples call themselves, but I actually quite like that one."

"Should we get married then?" Harry comments as he twists his neck to look at Louis over his shoulder. His tummy is streaked with come. Harry made him fuck his fist right after he came and he looked so gorgeous and ethereal with his back arched and his eyebrows furrowed. They are a bit of a disgusting sight, though, Harry can admit that. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to just go on with my life without your awe-inspiring cock-sucking skills."

Louis flips him off. "You say cock too much."

Harry snorts. "You call me stupid nicknames."

Narrowing his eyes, Louis flicks one of the bruises he left on Harry's neck. "You want to marry me 'cause no one has ever given you a half decent blowjob."

"True, I should've considered that three months ago."

Louis makes a sound of agreement, but he opts for stretching all of his 5'6’’ glory across Harry instead of responding. Then he bites him.

"Every minute that passes convinces me even more that you walked out of Twilight novel," he claims with a mock-serious tone.

The mock-offended gasp Louis replies with tells him he didn't go a very good job. "I just gave you the greatest blowjob of your life and this is how you repay me? Comparing me to poorly developed characters? I feel betrayed, pumpkin spice latte."

"What did you just call me? Pumpkin spice latte?" Harry sputters.

Louis nods primly and nibbles on the meaty part of Harry's bicep. "I did. You insulted my ego, so I called you an overpriced seasonal beverage."

"Well, that's a first. Been having loads of firsts lately," Harry muses, smiling to himself.

Louis pokes Harry's dimple and purses his lips. "I'm afraid I can't say the same, dude."

Harry rolls his eyes playfully. Two can play this game if that's what Louis wants. "I just said we had to get married because of that tongue thing you did. Who would even say that if not me, pal."

"Actually, you are the third guy that proposed to me after I blew them. I've made two cry and one say hallelujah," a quirky, pleased smile brags to Harry.

Harry doesn't have a hard time believing that, not when he's felt the way Louis builds you up with a bat of his eyelashes just to bring you down hard and fast with gentle touches and praises muttered in the love bites he left on your thigh.

"So I guess I'm one of the lucky ones."

"The luckiest one, I'd say." Louis smacks a peck on the tip of his nose before climbing off Harry and kicking him lightly. "They weren't privileged enough to join me in a steamy and totally erotic shower afterwards." His wiggly eyebrows set Harry off into a fit of giggles.

And that's how Harry spends the day after he got dumped, with a silly boy who plasters himself to Harry's back, makes him giggle too much, and distracts him with incredibly well timed orgasms.

By the time the sun sets, Harry’s figured out Louis has a weak spot for knock knock jokes, which happen to be his specialty. Louis learns how to make proper scrambled eggs after they have an Egg Off and Louis pours milk on his, although Harry suspects he just did that to see what reaction he'd get out of him. In vengeance, Harry gets scolded for daring to put too much sugar in the tea, "You come into my house, eat my food, and come in my mouth just to disrespect me like this? I thought you were special, Harold!" Harry has to sit on the floor to wipe his tears away after that one.

He hasn't had this much fun in such a long time, had forgotten what it felt like to have a sore tummy just from laughing too hard. Not to mention how spent his dick is after he crowds Louis up against a wall and rubs himself between his cheeks. Louis had suggested walking around the flat naked, claimed it would be a freeing experience for Harry's soul. However, all Harry got was frustration from seeing Louis strut all over the place and not being able to just like, get his fingers in him or sit Louis on his lap and make him work for it.

They talk about absolutely nothing and it's perfect.

It's when they're sitting on the edge of Louis' windowsill, outside of the fire escape and looking over the city lights and noisy streets that things change.

~~~

_**-1 day** _

Louis is smoking, and Harry is curled under his arm, happy and sated. Louis looks particularly beautiful with smoke curling up in the air and a pensive look on his face. The glasses are back, Harry cheered.

"So, my beloved Harry, I don't mean to upset you, but I do have to ask--and you do not have answer so tell me to fuck off if you want--but," Louis pauses, inhales and exhales, his mere presence drowning out the sounds of life beneath them. "How did you end up with someone like that Axel guy? You're so, I don't know, thoughtful and funny. I can't imagine how or why someone would break off their engagement to you."

Harry presses his face in the nook of Louis' neck.They're both very tactile, and apparently can't go longer than 45 minutes without touching. It's nice, comforting and so cozy. He sighs, closes his eyes to get a clear head and a real answer. "I don't think it was easy for him. I'm not trying to justify him I just- we weren't working anymore. We thought getting married was just taking the next step, something we had to do."

"But did you want to marry him?" Louis asks with sincerity, stubbing the cigarette out on the ground. "'Cause, well, it sounded like you had everything planned already."

Harry wants to answer yes because it's true, he had everything planned and scheduled: the wedding, the house, the kids, the pets and the holidays. But that's it, that's what he wanted, and marrying Axel was the first step to get there.

"I'm such a horrible person." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Harry feels Louis shift, ready to protest, but Harry doesn't let him. He needs to hear this, or maybe Harry just needs to say it. "Neither of us wanted it. He was just braver than I was and put an end to it."

"No. He chose to run away with someone else, and that's not brave, that's being a coward." Louis speaks every word with intent, trying to make Harry understand, and there's also a thickness to his voice that's not from the smoke. "And you should not even compare yourself to him."

Harry reaches out to kiss his knuckles. "It's alright, Lou. And I'm here because of that situation, isn't that right?"

That earns him half a smile, but a smile all the same. "Okay, true," Louis concedes, but Harry can still feel the tense line of his shoulders.

The obvious and most productive solution is climbing on Louis' lap and tugging his cheeks to form a twisted grin. Louis tries to swat him away, pawing at the air like a baby kitten, but Harry is a man on a mission here. "Of course it's true, I'm always right. Not to mention the fact that now I know sex is not supposed to be boring as fuck."

"You're impossible!" Louis complains, but a full bellied laugh bursts out of his throat, so maybe he doesn't mean it.

One thing is sure, though; Louis' laugh still blows him away to the point where he has to stop what he's doing and just let the sound envelop him until he tastes its sweetness on his tongue. Louis seems to be catching up on this, so he takes advantage of Harry's very vulnerable state and pins his arms behind his back.

Louis' winning smile won't even give Harry the chance to complain. "Imagine the horror, you living the rest of your life having mediocre sex. Isn't that a sad thought?"

"So very sad," Harry agrees, displaying both dimples to demonstrate how sad he is. "You're my saviour Louis." He grinds down on Louis' dick to accentuate his gratefulness.

Louis grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, but doesn't let up the grip he has on Harry's wrists. "My pleasure."

"You know what? My offer still stands, and I'm heartbroken that you haven't responded to it. I resent that."

Louis makes a sound of indignation. "Which one? Marry you for sexual favors? Not gonna lie, Curly, but you strike me as someone who would put real effort into a proposal."

Harry pretends to think this for a minute just to annoy Louis, and then snaps his fingers as if he's got a bright idea. "I could spell it out for you with cigarette butts! How grunge is that?"

"I am impressed, no one has ever wooed me like that before. I'll have no option but to say yes and ride off into the sunset with you on a white horse while the whole kingdom waves us goodbye," Louis suggests, expression serious. It's hilarious.

"What about the woodland creatures that pushed us to meet and fall in love?" Harry asks with big, rounded eyes.

"They can come, too. We'll have the annoying birds give the best man speech."

"Better than a drunk Niall telling embarrassing stories about how we met."

Louis kisses his chin, face soft and warm. He releases Harry's wrist to put his arms around his waist and pull him closer. "Can't refuse a wedding like that, can I?"

"No, you cannot," Harry sighs, calm settling in his bones as the morning traffic starts up.

Louis pats his bum, getting his attention to beam up at Harry. "Let's get married then."

And the world should turn on it's axis, or at least tremble a bit, making the ground shake as Harry understands what Louis just said, but that doesn't happen. They're on the third floor of a building. There's someone blasting heavy metal on the floor above, the sun is coming out and painting the sky different shades of pink, and Harry can hear children and their parents rushing on the sidewalk.

The world doesn't stop, but Harry's heart does.

"You're joking," he sputters, shocked of how he can even utter something that makes sense. "You're joking right?"

Louis' face falls, but he recovers before Harry blinks. He shrugs the shoulder Harry gripped so hard hours ago Louis had actually shouted in bliss. "I'm not joking. Isn't that what you wanted? To be married? Let's do it."

Harry fish mouths and wills his heart to start beating again. "But- you don't know me! We don't know each other! At all! That's insane, Louis!"

Louis rubs his back, and it's weird, it's really weird that it works and that his touch is enough to calm him. "Hear me out, yeah? So what if we don't know each other? That doesn't mean a thing. You and that guy had been together for so long and it didn't work. Maybe what you need is the exact opposite."

That speech serves as a testament to how crazy Harry really is, because it actually makes sense to him. It might be the sleep deprivation, but it might not, seeing as his heart starts racing at how earnest Louis looks. And he, fuck. Harry is nodding along to whatever argument Louis is explaining because he completely agrees. This is happening, this is his life now.

Harry lunges down and cups Louis' face in both hands, kissing him quiet with the stupidest smile to exist. Louis sputters, surprised, but he leans into the kiss and soon enough they're giving it their all, trying to convey what they can't bring themselves to say with simple pecks and giggly clanks of teeth.

Harry is about to do the dumbest thing he's ever done, and he's so excited and happy about it.

"Yes," Harry whispers and knocks their foreheads together.

Louis' eyes widen comically. Harry decides to set a day where all he has to do is get lost in the golden specks of them. "Yes? Well, that didn't take a lot of convincing."

"Shut up, I proposed first," Harry covers Louis' mouth with his hand to stop him from fighting. Louis licks Harry's palm like the little shit he is, but Harry isn't even a bit grossed out. You're so gone for him already, a little voice rings inside his head. And it's right. Why deny it when it's so refreshing to just accept the truth. "Let's get married today, even."

"Today?"

"Yup."

Louis' eyes glimmer mischievously and Harry feels his blood pumping when Louis interlocks their fingers. "Alright, let's get married today, love."

***

Harry tries to scrap breakfast together with the few things Louis has, which, trust him, is not an easy task. Apparently he's always eating out with friends or is too busy to have the most important meal of the day. Harry tells him no husband of his will be skipping breakfast, so he makes porridge while Louis googles how to get a marriage license with a small, private grin. Harry catches him sneaking glances a couple of times, and it never fails to make the both of them blush like high school sweethearts.

"Hey, Lou?" he calls out as he sets the kettle on. "How do you know Niall and Barbs?"

Louis presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows, it makes Harry nervous so he turns to see what Louis will answer. He sighs, then asks, "Do you know Liam Payne?"

Does Harry know Liam Payne? Of course Harry knows Liam Payne. Gemma and Harry were big fans of him when he won X Factor. In fact, they still owe their mum some money on phone bills after they voted so often for him.

"Who doesn't know Liam Payne, Lou? He's like, an adorable version of Justin Timberlake."

Louis scoffs, but it's playful. Harry is glad, otherwise he would've had to call Gemma and let her yell at Louis about appreciating Liam Payne's falsetto. "Yeah, well, I work for him. Kind of. I help him out with the songwriting thing. And I get payed for that, but he's also my best friend, so."

Well, isn't this boy full of surprises. "So you're saying I'm marrying Liam Payne's best friend?" Harry teases.

Louis sticks his tongue out. "I knew you were making all of this marriage thing up just to get closer to Li. It happens all the time."

That's kind of half true, but Harry is only going to ask for concert tickets after the wedding (his mum raised him well, thank you very much). "I'm sure it does, Mr. Big Shot. Still doesn't explain how you know my friends."

"Sophia, Liam's girlfriend, and Barbara used to be neighbors when they were kids. So when Bee told Soph they needed help at the bar, Liam made me pick up my sorry ass and get a job until he's ready to write again," Louis rests his chin on his knees and looks as charming as a rumpled 20 something could. Which is plenty. Harry will start having problems with his respiratory system if Louis keeps this up.

Harry whistles, surprised. "So your first day happened to be the day I was dumped? Wow, the world really is a small place."

Louis clicks his tongue. "I think it was fate, babe."

"Fate?"

"Big believer in fate, I am," Louis claims grandly, and he just, ugh.

No one should be this cute with hair that looks like a bird's nest while they say shit that makes Harry's heart stop. It's not fair for him or, you know, humanity. "Has the big believer in fate found a way to get us hitched yet?"

Banging his little fists on the table and standing up, Louis flips the laptop so Harry can see. "As a matter of fact, I have." He takes the kettle off the stove and shoos Harry away. "All we have to do is print out the marriage license and show up at the courthouse between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m."

Harry walks to the laptop and squints down at it. _**Download Marriage Application Form**_. Isn't that extremely easy and convenient? Only four words and a quick link that can turn Harry's life upside down.

"So we're going to print those, fill them out, and get married?" Harry starts gnawing on his thumb and tries to keep calm, focusing on the way Louis moves around the tiny kitchen like a barefooted hurricane. He hums out a yes, and bops around to whatever beat is playing inside his head. He's something else, something Harry never thought about needing until now, watching him pour tea in chipped mugs and handing one to Harry when it's ready.

"Only if you're sure," Louis adds when he notices how Harry’s fidgeting. He takes a step back, gives him some room.

Harry's first instinct is to stop him, to reach out for Louis again. But he forces himself to stay rooted and breath in some air that isn't tinted with Louis' smell. This air sucks, though, so he puts down his cup after a sip and pushes Louis' back to the fridge, burying his nose on the top of his lovely bird nest hair. "I am sure. Are you sure?"

"Very sure, my little desert flower." He pats Harry's chest, right above his heart, to the rhythm of a tune he's humming. "Let's sneak into my landlord's office, use his printer, and run before he catches us."

"Let's put on real clothes first, yes?"

"You're no fun, shortcake." Louis pouts but he still escapes Harry's arms to fetch them clothes.

***

They dress up in all black because Louis is an actual toddler and stomps his foot until Harry gives in and agrees to pretend they're on a secret mission. He giggles maniacally the whole way to the lobby, and kicks Harry's shins, demanding the Mission Impossible song. For a fleeting moment, it worries Harry how much he's willing to do for Louis and his smile, but then Louis cheers loudly when they get the papers and run out of there fast as bullets.

To celebrate, Harry eats Louis' ass. It is, hands down, the best experience of his life.

That's how he ends up with a flushed, naked, and pliant Louis in his lap while they share a bowl of cold porridge on the mattress and look over the marriage application.

"Why is 'Are you related to applicant A' a real question, Harry?" Louis complains with a real puzzled expression.

Harry tickles his belly to get rid of it. "I bet the city hall is asking the same thing."

Louis shakes his head and opens his mouth so Harry can feed him. "We also have to wait twenty days for the thing to be, you know, legal," he muses as he chews.

Twenty days. Twenty days of living with Louis. Well, that sounds fun. "That's fine, Lou."

"Perfect!" Louis exclaims and starts to fill in the blank spaces on paper.

Harry continues to eat in silence, but jolts when Louis' head snaps up to look at him, frowning. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know if you have a middle name. You never told me your last name."

Harry's mouth forms a perfect 'O'. Louis' right, Harry doesn't even know if Louis has a middle name. "I guess you're right."

Louis doesn't say anything, but Harry can see the duh clearly in his eyes. Louis drops everything he's holding, pushing it aside to extend his palm towards Harry. "I'm Louis William Tomlinson. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Harry Snickerdoodle."

"That's actually very close," Harry admits as they shake hands. "But please, call me Harry Edward Styles."

Louis glares at him and lets go of Harry's hand mid-shake. "I can't put your popstar name on the marriage certificate, Harold."

"It's my real name!" Harry protests, laughing.

"If you thought I was gonna take your last name, you're sorely mistaken. Louis Styles sounds too pornish," Louis grumbles and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"You were thinking about taking my last name?" Harry asks, surprised. The one time he and Axel talked about this, Axel said it was too much of a hassle, and Harry was the one that wanted to take his name, anyways. Louis, on the other hand, didn't even know his and he wanted to take it.

Louis slumps his shoulders, sadly. "Thought you might like that, and that we should go all out but it sounds a bit crap, doesn't it?"

He looks so dejected. Harry needs to cuddle him as soon as possible, this is unacceptable. "We can change mine if you'd like," Harry offers and pulls Louis closer, feels the rise and fall of his chest and times his own with it.

"Harry Tomlinson," Louis says with a posh accent. "Louis and Harry Tomlinson."

For some reason, Harry sees their names spelled out with an elegant font on a crisp, white paper, inviting all their loved ones to... Yeah, he’s not going to go there. "Sounds neat," Harry comments after clearing his throat.

"What if we hyphenate it? Tomlinson-Styles or Styles-Tomlinson?" Louis moves to take his pen and papers, ready to write down Harry's answer.

"Tomlinson-Styles. Fuck alphabetical order," Harry replies certainly.

Louis smiles up at Harry like a walking sunbeam. "Woah! Let's not get too wild, honey." He writes down their new names on both certificates, though.

"What's your mum's name?"

"Johannah Deakin," Louis responds softly. "Yours?"

"Anne Twist. Used to be Cox but she finally married my stepdad a few years ago."

Louis snickers. "Harry Cox and Louis Styles. We could have been a power couple in another life."

"Heeyyy."

Bopping his nose without looking, Louis writes their mums’ names and double checks for mistakes. It's unbelieveable, watching him get so invested in something as silly as this. "So, your dad's name is..."

"Desmond Styles," Harry tells him. "What's your dad's name?"

"Mark, but he and mum divorced when I was 18 so we don't talk much now. Her husband's name is Dan, and they had twins a couple of years ago."

Harry bounces excitedly. Twins. Louis has twins that are a couple of years old. He loves babies, actually works with them at a small daycare close to his neighborhood. It's temporary, a part-time job until he saves up enough to get a proper degree and everything, but he loves it anyways.

Now, he gets to coddle babies that share Louis' DNA. "You've got baby siblings! Why didn't you tell me, Lou!"

"I've got six of them. Five girls and one little boy," he shares proudly, a whole different smile on his lips Harry hasn't seen before.

"Really? That must be amazing, I bet they're amazing. I've only got an older sister. You and Gemma are gonna get along great, I can see that."

(Harry does not think about the giant effort it took to convince Gemma that Axel wasn't the jerk she thought he was. They were civil, sure, but never quite got along the way Harry had hoped for.)

"She won't be mad at me? For making you with me elope on a Friday morning?" Louis asks, but he won't meet Harry's eyes.

It's a treat, catching slivers of who Louis is in the tone of his voice or the way he holds his head. And he's nervous, Harry knows and of course he wants to reassure Louis but, fuck it, he's too busy being stunned by how much Louis genuinely cares about this and what his sister will make of it.

When Harry doesn't answer, Louis turns back to look at him. "She's gonna kill me, isn't she?" He's so concerned, Harry adores him.

"No, Lou. She'll probably be a little angry with me, but she'll let it go once she realizes you're not Axel," Harry explains gently.

Louis' eyes harden for a fraction of a second. "Of course I'm not that dickhead."

Harry smirks and leans into Louis' ear to whisper, "No, you are not. Yours is much prettier," but that doesn't sound as good as he thought.

Louis yelps and pushes Harry away. "Yeah we're gonna stop this conversation right now. You suck at dirty talk, baby."

"I tried," Harry sulks.

Patting his cheek, Louis nods, cooing, "And for that I'll give you a handjob. But, we need to finish this up before midday if we want to be The Tomlinson-Styles by the end of the day."

There is not a handjob, though, because as soon as all the right papers are filled in correctly, Louis scolds him because apparently they shouldn’t see each other before the wedding. "It's tradition, Hazza!" He yells before banging his bedroom door closed. Harry can't argue back, he's too dazed after hearing Louis use a proper nickname.

So, he gets ready in the bathroom after Louis threw his jeans and black boots at him. There is also a blue dress shirt that is a bit snug on Harry, but it works. He leaves it half unbuttoned to make Louis suffer.

The funny thing is, there's not a cell in Harry's body that is scared or confused about what's going to happen in a few hours. He’s buzzing with energy, ready to jump out of his skin or maybe skip forward in time. As he's trying to fix his hair into something presentable, he thinks about Louis' words, how he’s a big believer in fate. Harry's always been a bit of a romantic, and when he walks out and begs Louis to come out the door, he’s more than convinced that this is how it was meant to be all along.

"Lou, are we going to get married today or what?"

Harry should've never spoken.

Louis opens the door and Harry feels like crying. He’s wearing the tightest jeans ever recorded in history coupled with a white and grey knitted jumper. His hair is all artfully disheveled and he is glowing. There is an actual glow outlining his silhouette, like a halo, as if Louis were something celestial. He is stunning and he knows it, just standing there and letting Harry drink him in.

"Like what you see?" Louis teases, crowding up in Harry's space.

Harry can't do much but nod promptly and try to find a way to get his hands on Louis. "You look incredible, babe," he says sincerely.

Louis nods, too, his lips pressed together tightly to hide the impressed smile he has for Harry. "Not to shabby yourself, Mister Styles." Linking their arms together, Louis raises his eyebrows and leads them to the door. "Shall we?"

~~~

_**0 days** _

"Are we seriously doing this?" Harry questions while worrying his bottom lip between his front teeth.

Louis shrugs, smiling the grin that shows off his canines and makes him look like a tiny vampire Harry can't resist. "We sure are, sugar. Could probably marry you everyday," he comments as if it's not a big deal, like he doesn't have Harry's beating heart cradled in his hands.

Harry feels as if the sun is lighting up the whole building, so he smiles toothily, bringing out his dimples and everything in an extra attempt to charm Louis. "I'd marry you twice everyday."

Louis rolls his eyes, but Harry is getting pretty good at reading him and it’s clear to see the fondness hiding in the corner of his lips. "Yeah, well, don't. We're working class gay men with no real jobs. I cannot afford to buy you that huge ass Saint Laurent ring you set as the background on my phone."

"I know but, just picture this. Wouldn't my incredibly skilled fingers look gorgeous once you put that specific ring on?"

"If you were an overpaid popstar that writes songs about loving dick, but waters it down by throwing enough 'babys' in during the chorus, then yes, sunshine, that ring would look lovely on you while you open up my ass in a public restroom."

"Don't start something you don't plan to finish, Tomlinson."

Louis bats his eyelashes, and Harry needs to choke on his cock. "Oh, I'm gonna finish, pumpkin. I'm gonna finish multiple times if the plans I have for that sweet mouth of yours work out."

And..... Harry is about to drop dead any second now.

Luckily, that's when the Registrar calls out their names.

Louis turns to him and offers his palm for Harry to hold. There's stars shining in his eyes, and Harry would give anything to keep them there. "Ready?"

Harry takes his hand and kisses him chastely, making Louis melt for a couple of seconds. "More than anything."

Their Registrar is named Ximena. She’s a petite thing with curly black hair and a warm smile that greets them happily. Harry loves her instantly. She tells them where to stand side by side, how happy she is to marry them, and to give her a couple of minutes to gather the witnesses needed. Louis and Harry make silly faces at each other the whole time.

She comes back with two old ladies that pull their cheeks and congratulate them on their young love.

Miss Ximena stands in front of them with a big, leather folder that has a serious looking stamp on it and asks if anyone else will be joining them.

Louis grins like a mad man. "Nope, just us against the world," he replies simply. Harry forgets how to breathe.

"Very well then," she opens her folder and clears her throat, ready to begin. "Good Afternoon ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the civil ceremony for the marriage of Harry Edward Styles and Louis William Tomlinson."

Louis clutches his hand, and Harry does his best to control his own smile.

"This place in which we are now met has been duly sanctioned according to law for the celebration of marriage. This ceremony will unite Harry Edward Styles and Louis William Tomlinson in marriage. We are here to celebrate their union and to honour their commitment to each other. Today both will proclaim their love for one another. We celebrate with them and for them. If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage they should declare it now."

There's no one else in the room with them, but they still look over their shoulders to wink at the old ladies behind them to make them laugh.

Miss Ximena nods, pleased and continues. "Marriage joins two people in the circle of its love. It is a commitment to life, the best that two people can find and bring out in each other. It offers opportunities for learning and growth that no other opportunity can equal. It is both a physical and emotional joining that is promised for a lifetime. Happiness is fuller, memories are fresher and commitment is deeper."

Harry, fuck, he’s crying. There are tears in his eyes and he can't look at the Registrar anymore. It's just...overwhelming. And overwhelming doesn't even cover the need that hits his chest like a bulldozer to have all of that and more with Louis.

"Marriage understands and forgives the mistakes that life is unable to avoid. When two people pledge their love and care for each other within a marriage, they create a spirit which binds them closer than any spoken or written words. Marriage is a promise written in the hearts of two people who love each other, and it takes a lifetime to fulfil."

Louis' breath hitches. Harry hears it clearly, so he turns to check on him and sees that he's got watery eyes, too. God, they're both a pair of saps.

"The purpose of marriage is that you always love, care for, and support each other through both the joys and sorrows of life. Today you will exchange vows of marriage which will unite you as spouses."

Spouses. Harry is going to be Louis' spouse pretty soon. And Louis will be his. Wow.

"These vows are a promise of a lifelong commitment. Before you are both joined together in marriage it is my duty to remind you of the solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to make. Marriage in this country is the union of two people voluntarily entered into for life to the exclusion of all others. I am now going to ask you each in turn to declare that you know of no legal reason why you may not be joined together in marriage," She closes her folder and looks at them expectantly. "We shall start with Mister Styles, please read this outloud," And she hands Harry a piece of paper

Harry's eyes widen and he swallows loudly, he feels Louis thumb rubbing the joints of his wrist. "I do solemnly declare – that I know not – of any lawful impediment – why I, Harry Edward Styles, may not be joined in marriage to Louis William Tomlinson," Harry manages to say, if a bit breathless.

Miss Ximena gives him a small, encouraging smile before taking the paper back and handing it to Louis. "Please, Mr. Tomlinson."

Louis exhales, grips Harry's hand with all of his strength, and finds a clear voice to read, "I do solemnly declare – that I know not – of any lawful impediment – why I, Louis William Tomlinson, may not be joined in marriage to Harry Edward Styles."

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Miss Ximena stage-whispers. It makes them laugh, shake off the tension they were holding. Harry will come back next week to give her a nice fruit arrangement or something like that. She is too lovely. "Harry and Louis, I will ask you now." She turns to Harry first. "Harry Edward Styles, do you take Louis William Tomlinson to be your lawful wedded husband, to be loving, faithful and loyal to him for the rest of your life together?"

Harry turns his head, sees Louis gazing at him excitedly, and the words spill out of his mouth before he has any idea he's saying them. "I do," Harry keeps his eyes on the crinkles of Louis'.

"And Louis William Tomlinson, do you take Harry Edward Styles to be your lawful wedded husband, to be loving, faithful and loyal to him for the rest of your life together?"

Louis nods quickly, his smile growing at the same rate as Harry's affection. "I do."

"Now we move on to the formal vows of marriage. If you could please face each other," she instructs and gives them both another slip of paper.

Harry reads it first, though a bit reluctantly. He can't take his eyes off the happiness that's oozing out of Louis. "I call upon – these persons here present – to witness that I, Harry Edward Styles to take you Louis William Tomlinson to be my lawful wedded husband – to love and to cherish – from this day forward."

"I call upon – these persons here present – to witness that I, Louis William Tomlinson, to take you Harry Edward Styles to be my lawful wedded husband – to love and to cherish – from this day forward," Louis reads impeccably, which just makes Harry want to kiss him senseless to be honest.

"The exchanging of rings is the traditional way of sealing the contract that you have just made. It is an unbroken circle, symbolising unending and everlasting love, and is the outward sign of the lifelong promise that you have just made to each other."

Rings? But they- they don't have those, fuck. "We, uhm, we don't have rings," Harry points out, awkwardly. How could he fucking forget the fucking rings, fuck...

"Actually!" Louis speaks up before the Registrar continues. He lets go of one of Harry's hands to fish around his pocket. "We do have rings."

And that's. Yup. Those are rings. Wedding rings. Louis got them wedding rings.

"But we- how did you get them?" Harry seizes Louis' hand and yeah, those are real. And so gorgeous, all made of white gold with what seems to be a sailor's knot in the middle, framed by two simpler ropes. Harry wouldn't have been able to pick rings more perfect than these. And he used to spend hours on the Internet trying to find them.

At least Louis looks sheepish. "When I said I needed the loo? I actually went to buy them. There's, like, an old jewelry store around the corner. And the owner said these were made for a couple that had to be separated days after meeting but they wanted to marry, be together, you know. Anyways, maybe she was pulling my leg, but I really liked them so. We have rings."

Harry faces the Registrar and does his best impression of a pleading kitten. "Can I kiss him, already? Please? Let me kiss him."

The Registrar laughs openly, charmed, but isn't Harry's kind of pal. "We're almost done. If we could please continue with the vows."

"Yes, go ahead. I wanna kiss him."

"Alright, Harry. Please read the last vows."

Harry steels himself. He just wants this to be over and take Louis, his brand new husband, home. And maybe keep him there until it is absolutely necessary to come out. "I give you this ring – as a symbol of our love – All that I am I give to you – all that I have I share with you. I promise to love you – to be faithful and loyal – in good times and bad – may this ring remind you always - of the words we have spoken today," he takes the smaller of the rings from Louis' palm and slides it on his finger. It fits snugly, like it was meant to be there.

Louis bounces on the balls on his feet and snatches the paper out of Harry's hand. "I give you this ring – as a symbol of our love – All that I am I give to you – all that I have I share with you. I promise to love you – to be faithful and loyal – in good times and bad – may this ring remind you always - of the words we have spoken today," Louis smiles with victory and slips Harry's ring in place. "Much better than the Saint Laurent one," he whispers to make Harry giggle.

The Registrar opens her folder again with finality. "Today is a new beginning. May you have many happy years together and in those years, may all your hopes and dreams be fulfilled. Above all, may you always believe in each other and may the warmth of your love enrich not only your lives but the lives of all those around you." Finally, she says the words they want to hear. "It now gives me great pleasure to tell you both that you are now legally Husband and Husband. Congratulations, you may now kiss."

The old ladies in the back cheer and clap for them as Harry takes Louis in his arms and smashes their lips together. It's not very romantic, except it is because they're grinning like loons and their eyes are open and their noses bump and it really hurts but fuck it, it's their first kiss as spouses. Harry guesses it had to start with something a bit chaotic, like them.

There's a flash from somewhere, probably one of the old ladies taking a picture, and Louis has to push him away so they can sign the papers and make sure everything is in order. Harry doesn't care about that part, so he keeps busy by letting his ring get admired.

At last, Louis comes back to him and fits himself on Harry's side to kiss the old ladies goodbye. They adore Louis the most, but Harry can't blame them when Louis managed to change his entire life in just one night. They walk out of the courthouse hand in hand, Louis squinting against the sunlight and Harry ready to throw Louis over his shoulder and run home if that means he'll get Louis all for himself.

"Now what, doll?"

"Now we get our wedding night."

***

As soon as they're inside Louis' apartment, clothes start to come off. Hell, they probably won't make it to the bedroom but Harry is more than happy with pressing a shirtless Louis to the door, lifting him up to hold onto his thighs and having his way with Louis' collarbones.

Apparently, spending so much time cooped up with Louis has made Harry develop a bit of a possessive streak, so Louis is more or less covered in bite marks or fading bruises everywhere Harry's mouth can reach. It works for both of them, because Louis makes the prettiest noises when Harry latches onto his neck and gets him hard in record time. Harry checked. There's also the way Louis clutches Harry's hair and tugs until Harry's eyes water, which is a definite pro because Harry loves that.

It's with that grip he has on Harry's hair that Louis drags Harry's ear close to his mouth. It tears a moan right of Harry's belly. "Gonna fuck me, yeah?" Louis whispers as he bucks on Harry's hipbone.

All of Harry's brain activity stops. "What?"

Louis kisses his jawline, whispers "Want you to fuck me, yeah, baby?" into Harry's chin and smiles deviously when he feels Harry shift his hands from his thighs to his ass.

Harry, thanks to some divine power, is able to speak and stay still even though Louis practically riding his side. "I thought you wanted us to go slow."

Louis stops and looks him square in the eyes. "We just got married, Harold. I don't know how slow you want us to go."

"You would not believe how much I hate you," Harry laughs, but he still carries Louis all the way to his bedroom and dumps him unceremoniously on the bed.

"I'm very aggravated by your comment but I can't wait to see the look on your face after I make you come in my ass," Louis threatens, wiggling around and trying to take off his pants.

Harry does the same standing up, and dives in to kiss Louis quiet when they're both very much naked. Harry wastes no time in getting his hands back on Louis' bum. He missed it deeply. Louis nips Harry's bottom lip for his trouble, and sneaks a hand between them to rub their cocks together. They're both leaking already, and Louis uses the opportunity to make a mess, spreading the wetness to ease the slide.

Louis is a quick learner--figured out what made Harry hiss loudest the first time he blew him--and he's taking advantage of that. He keeps the strokes of his hand slow, but flicks the head of Harry's cock just enough for him to whine for more. There's also the added bonus of Louis' wedding ring running over him, driving him even more crazy.

"You like that, baby?" Louis asks sweetly, gazing at Harry with big innocent eyes that don't fit him at all.

Harry lets his head drop on Louis' shoulder and groans when he lets his fingers wander to Louis' hole. He's still opened up from Harry eating him out this morning, and Harry is pretty sure he could fit in at least a finger in there, just to feel Louis clench around him, just to give him a taste of his own medicine. "I would like it more if I was inside you already."

"I know you do, but what are you gonna do first, huh? Gonna open me up like you said before, with your ring getting all dirty before you fill me up? Is that what you want?"

God, wouldn't that be a sight? Louis writhing on the sheets, getting flustered from the coldness of Harry's ring teasing him, so beautiful and wrecked before Harry fucks him breathless. "Lou, please."

Louis giggles and presses kisses on the disaster that is Harry's hair. "Get the lube before you give yourself a heart attack," he lets go of Harry and points to a drawer by his head with a sly smile.

Harry honestly has to think twice before moving his hands away from Louis' ass, but he manages. With lube in hand and Louis spread out beneath him, he sets to work. "C'mon, love. Hands and knees."

Raising his eyebrows, Louis licks his lips. "Kinda wanted to sit on your dick and ride you," he says coyly as he takes his own dick and starts to touch himself. "Really wanted to suck on your nipples while you fucked me."

"I can't believe I'm going to die before I cum." He settles by Louis' side and pulls him on top. It's not that he gets off on Louis getting everything he wants, but, yeah. He gets off on Louis getting everything he wants. "Put on a show for me then."

Louis gives him a brilliant smile. "I can't believe you really do want to die."

***  
Harry's in the middle of having a nap after cuming four times when there's loud banging on the front door and he jolts awake.

One quick look out the window lets him know the sun is starting to set, so he's been asleep for an hour, maybe. It all became a blur after Louis thought it be a good idea to ride his face. Harry was pretty much in heaven by then.

There's another bang on the door, an aggressive one, and Harry frowns. People are so rude nowadays. He rolls over in bed to see Louis is still sleeping, so soft and angelical. The exact opposite of how he was a couple of hours ago. He's resting on his belly, and his ring glints from the light that's seeping in from the curtains. Harry wouldn't mind staying right here to burn in the marks Louis left on him all day.

He can't though, because the rude banging keeps on going and Harry doesn't want Louis to wake up all grumpy. So, with a sigh, he picks himself up and covers himself with the sheet that was bunching on the end of the bed. He absentmindedly scratches the cum sticking to his belly as he walks to check on the annoying prick that woke him up.

A peek through the peephole shows a very angry, very tiny man staring right at him. Harry really has no option but to open the door and hide behind it to greet the rude guest. "Can I help you?"

"Where is Tomlinson?" The little man demands. He reminds Harry of Danny DeVito

Harry purses his lips to avoid laughing at this guy's face. He looks straight out of a Sunday morning cartoon, the only thing missing is the steam coming out of his ears. "Louis, is uhm, not available right now. Would you like me to pass on a message?"

"What are you? His secretary? Get him right now!"

"Actually, Billy, this fine young man is my husband," Louis comes from out of nowhere and startles them. There's sheet marks on one side of his face and his hair is all over the place. He's a fluffy duckling. Harry's heart tries to leap out of his chest when Louis smiles warmly at him and settles a palm on the curve of his spine. "His name is Harry Tomlinson-Styles."

Billy's wrinkled face scrunches up as if he just heard the worst news of his life. It's pretty hilarious. "Someone agreed to marry you?" he spits out.

"I did," Harry answers without looking away from the ball of softness that is Louis.

"He really did," Louis confirms smugly. "How can we be of service, Billy?"

"Pack your crap and get out of my house by 7 a.m." Billy snarls.

Harry gasps, looking back and forth between a rude Billy and a shocked, sleepy Louis. "You can't kick us out."

Billy scoffs and waves them off with a mean grin. "I just did! Congratulations!" he yells before scuttling away like a turtle. A very old and mean turtle.

Louis closes the door and sits on the floor, sighing while he hides behind his hands and draws his knees to his chest. Harry sits in front of him and kisses his kneecaps, caressing the tender skin of his ankles.

"Lou, it's fine," Harry tries to comfort him. "We'll just pack everything and stay at my place, it'll be fine."

"No, I can't. I can't do that to you. That's your house, I can't just move in like that," his roughed up voice is muffled, clogged with sentiment.

Harry pulls his hands away and dimples at him, getting a chuckle out of Louis. "Sure you can. You're my spouse now. What's mine is yours yada yada yada. And I've been hiding out at yours for too long. We might need a change of scenery, don't you think?"

One side of Louis' mouth twists up in a half a smile, amused. "You really like the word spouse."

Nodding, Harry leans in to kiss the tip of Louis' pretty nose. "It's like a combination of spider and mouse."

Louis guffaws and it sounds terrible, and Harry finds it so cute. "Where on Earth did you come from Harry and how did you end up on my floor?" Louis' legs spread to let him cup Harry's face and give him a little smooch. "Let's go back to bed, I'm exhausted."

"Shouldn't we pack your stuff?"

"Nah, I can be an asshole to Billy pretty much all the time, but I do owe him money. All I need is Tashie and my clothes, to be honest," Louis says and helps Harry pull himself to his feet.

Harry squints. "Who the hell is Tashie?"

If Louis' smirk wasn't one of Harry's brand new weaknesses, he'd probably hiss at the smugness of his lips. "It's the name of my guitar, babe."

"You named your guitar Tashie."

"Yes, it's a pretty cute name, innit?" Louis' sweet crinkly eyed smile is gonna give Harry major cavities.

Harry sighs, Louis really has him wrapped around his pinky finger. “Not as cute as you or your bum. Or you and your bum together.”

“You’re on a whole new level of charming,” Louis says fondly as he walks into the bedroom, leaving Harry to make moon eyes at his silhouette.

The thing is, Louis makes the same moon eyes at him when Harry says he wants to be the little spoon for the night. They fit seamlessly under the covers, with Louis’ heartbeat and fleeting kisses lulling Harry into the best sleep he’s had in ages.

~~~

_**1 day** _

Harry wakes up with dread clogging his chest. Which sucks, because he was planning on waking up Louis with a blowjob, but that’s out of the picture now. They have to leave today, and he knows Louis is not that worried because they do have a place to go. But, that place is in the real world where he has to face his coworkers and family that still think he’s happily engaged with Axel, and have no idea he’s now happily married to Louis.

Louis’ apartment became Harry’s safe heaven, even as it’s half way empty and a bit messy. He found refuge here. This is where Louis gave Harry the chance to see what he has been missing all these years, and the view from the fire escape is honestly unreal.

Before he drives himself mad, he drags himself get out of bed (even if Louis pouts in his sleep when Harry slips out of his grip) to do something productive that will not lead him to the edge of insanity. So, he starts packing Louis’ belongings quietly, pacing the flat as he throws trinkets and worn out notebooks in a backpack, letting Louis sleep as the sky goes from navy to light blue.

He takes a very long shower, using every single one of Louis’ products to wrap himself in his smell and wills the water to wash away the fear that’s eating him up. That’s how Louis finds him, resting his head against the shower wall with his eyes closed. He climbs in and kisses his shoulder as he utters a tiny good morning and holds him for however long Harry cries.

It’s just. It’s been an overwhelming couple of days, and Louis is right here--hasn’t left his side or kicked him out. And Harry’s so, so grateful for that. He owes a big one to whatever higher power put this boy in his path.

Teary eyes and all, he turns around to give Louis the best smile he can muster. “Hi, hubby.”

Louis flashes a matching one and caresses Harry’s bottom lip, smooths it away from his teeth. “‘Ello,” he replies. “You need me to give you some room?”

“Nope,” Harry answers without haste and wraps his arms around Louis’ waist. “Right here is fine. Perfect, actually.”

Louis hums, tugging the tips of Harry’s wet hair curiously. “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready, darling.”

Harry’s dread quiets down, and it makes him wonder if Louis is some kind of magic, or if maybe Harry is crazy enough to believe every word he speaks. “Thank you.”

They come out of shower covered in wrinkles and smelling wonderful, both of them putty in the other’s hands. It’s a bit disgusting once Harry catches on to how long they stare at each other in silence as they put clothes on.

Louis dresses Harry in more ridiculously tight jeans and oversized jumpers that could only really work on himself, but Harry doesn’t complain because Louis keeps kissing his cheeks and bouncing all over the place as he double checks the packing.

After he insists on treating Harry to some breakfast, they stand in the doorway with cases and bags on their backs to bid Harry’s safe haven goodbye. With one final exhale, Louis gazes up at Harry and clasps their hands together. “Let’s go, Kid. I promised you the best pastries on this side of the pond, didn’t I?”

“Like a hundred times, Lou,” Harry replies, rolling his eyes fondly.

And just like that, they start something Harry could never have imagined.

***

The trip to Louis’ favorite coffee shop is a disaster. They get there on foot because Louis said it was very close (it wasn’t). Harry is wearing heeled boots and he’s pretty sure his blisters are getting blisters. He’s also carrying Louis’ guitar and keyboard, which do wonders on Harry’s bad back. Louis gets lost two times and apologizes to Harry another fifty. The only good thing that came from the trip was Louis’ face when he thought of another nickname for Harry. The shopkeeper eventually greets Louis with a big hug and digs an elbow in his ribs when he takes notice of Harry.

He gets introduced as “This is my apple strudel, Harry. We got married yesterday,” by a very pleased looking Louis.

They get complimentary apple strudels and tea for their trouble. They also play footsie under the table and hold hands on top of it. Harry can’t believe how married they are.

By the time the cab they caught parks in front of Harry’s house, both of them are high on sugar and laughter. Harry wonders if Louis knows him well enough to plan for their morning to be so lovely, considering the past couple of days he’s had.

Looking out the window car, Harry allows himself to take a good look at the home he’s been attempting to build for some time now. He knows it won’t look the same inside, as Niall’s probably already burned Harry’s sheets or something crazy like that. And, well, it’s gonna be strange letting Louis in to see all the empty nooks Axel left behind.

He pays the driver before helping Louis grab his stuff out of the trunk. They walk up the doorstep, and Louis has a look around the street as Harry digs for the right key. It’s very quiet in the morning here, much like their current conversation. Harry supposes Louis is nervous, and he wishes there was a way to assure him it’ll be fine, but that wouldn’t be one hundred percent true.

Finally, Harry opens the door and finds the house just as he left it. His jacket is still hanging from the hook, his car keys are in the bow ,and his plants are still alive, which is great. The walls remain white, none of his furniture is gone, nothing is crumbling to pieces.

Harry didn't expect this.

Louis lets his things fall on the floor and frowns. "Did that guy leave his stuff here? He didn't move out?"

Harry takes off his shoes and shakes his head. "No, he did. Most of his stuff was in the extra room and in our- the bedroom. In the bedroom. That’s how I noticed he left. His clothes were gone.”

Louis expression goes sour. “We don’t have to be here, if you don’t want to. We could book a room or crash at Niall’s.”

“He doesn’t know about the wedding and Barbara will probably set us on fire,” Harry tells him with a cringe. “They told me not to fuck you.”

“They did?” Louis asks, shocked.

Harry nods promptly, giving him a thumbs up. “Said you were, and I quote, quite irresistible. I’m gonna have to agree. Ten out of ten. Would fuck again.”

Louis doesn’t even have the decency to look flattered. He just nods along as if he’s heard it all before. “Give me the tour of the house first, and then maybe I’ll fuck you on that sunbed I saw in the backyard.”

“Say no more, Mr. Tomlinson-Styles. Follow me this way, please."

There’s really not much to show, just a bunch of plants Harry loves and Louis names after Disney villains. He mutters ‘quirky’ under his breath every time he runs a finger over one of Harry’s antique trinkets. He coos at the pictures pinned on the fridge, and whistles when he sees Harry’s homeware collection, and claims to fall head over heels for the wooden table no one ever sits on. He even congratulates Harry on his clean windows and good lighting.

Harry only has one choice, and it is to kiss his very lovely and polite spouse on the couch until their blood is rushing in their ears. If it accelerates the process of getting fucked in his sunbed then really, that's just a big bonus.

Tragically, Louis does not fall for it. It's a pity. "How about you show me the bedroom yeah? And I can unpack my things?" At least he smiles like the sun.

Unpack. As in remove from its packing, as in storing his clothes in a place inside Harry's house because he will not be leaving in the near future. Because they're married. They are the Tomlinson-Styles and old ladies love them. God, that's oddly comforting. "For a couple that's on their honeymoon phase, I don't see a lot of honeymooning going on around here," Harry still teases.

"Your stamina is starting to concern me," Louis notes with a grin.

"And yet, I'm still not being fucked into the mattress..."

Groaning, Louis pushes Harry off the couch and lets him flop on his back. Fuck lovely and polite, Louis is cold-hearted and despicable. "Just show me a place to put my socks and maybe lead me to a bed I can nap in. "

"If I do that, will you fuck me into next week?" Harry raises his arm and offers Louis his pinky to seal the deal.

"Yes, dear. I will fuck you into next week, and I'll buy you a puppy, too," he promises once their pinkies are laced.

Harry kisses the point where their fingers are locked just to see Louis look at him in awe and confusion. He's made it his mission to get that look on Louis' face at least twice a day. "Maybe we should wait to get a kitten after our second year of marriage, yeah?"

Honestly, a stunned Louis is priceless. "You planning on keeping me around for that long?"

"Only if you keep your word and fuck me into the sunbed," Harry replies with triumphant dimples.

Louis doesn't even dignify him with an answer. He just rolls his eyes and drags a giggly Harry outside.

Harry had gone house hunting with Lou--his boss and the owner of the daycare--two years into dating Axel. He fell for this house so hard and fast that he badgered Axel about moving in until he agreed, but only under the condition that he would get one of the three rooms as an office (because God forbid his personal life get in the middle of his job). Harry said yes without a second thought. Both of them wanted to be involved in decorating the place to make it their own, but mostly their attempts ended in fighting and bare walls sans all art work because they were stubborn gits.

And the bedroom is the biggest example of that. It's why Harry can't even stay in it long enough to let Louis look around. If it was simple before, with the black nightstands and white sheets that matched the window shades, now it's just... Now it's just a bunch of things Harry never cared for much because what he loved was the 'stupid' and 'tacky', like the collage he made for their first anniversary and the painting of the clearing behind Robin's bungalow. It was the last one Axel did before he dropped painting to work a 9 to 5 desk job.

Harry wouldn't have noticed he was tensed up if it weren't for the gentle touch Louis lays on his back. "You have a guest room, yes?”

“Yes,” he replies and leans into Louis’ palm to stay grounded, to not go back to the day he came home and found half of his life gone.

“We can stay there for now,” Louis decides and Harry is too glad to have him here. He’s so glad he’s not doing this on his own.

Settling in the guest room is quiet task. Louis only speaks to ask him where he should store his stuff, and Harry answers with short sentences. He brings clothes from the master bedroom for Harry to hang in a tiny closet that just won't fit their wardrobes. Louis is sitting in the center of the bed, waiting for him. He takes him into his arms after Harry crawls his way to him, a wave of exhaustion washing over him suddenly. Louis arranges them so his chest is to Harry’s back and he lets him rest his head on his shoulder, willing the stress and anger to spill out of him as he starts carding his fingers through the curls.

“You know, we're gonna have to talk about this eventually,” he comments just as Harry starts allowing himself to relax.

“About what?” Don’t say it. Don’t say it, Louis.

Louis says it. “All of it, Haz. About what that Axel guy did. About what we did. About how long we’re gonna be doing this. We’re gonna have to tell our families at some point, and if they asks us, I want to give them a real answer, babe.”

That’s, yeah. Harry won’t be doing any of that any time soon. “I’m not ready.”

“I know." Sighing, Louis embraces Harry’s middle and rolls them onto their sides. “I’m just saying, we should do that before everything explodes in our faces.”

He casts his eyes down to where Louis’ hand is holding onto Harry’s shirt, his ring in the middle of his stomach. “I’m not letting that happen,” is the last thing he says before closing his eyes.

They don’t do much for the rest of the day , except kiss and avoid Serious Stuff. And Louis keeps his word, but it’s nothing like Harry expected. It’s so much better because he takes his time opening him up, spreads him out and doesn’t stop telling Harry all the bits he can’t get enough of. He has Harry begging for him as soon as they lay down. And he discovers Louis has a way of taking pieces of him, only to return them as something better. Louis fucks him slow and steady, all tender brushes of his lips and hips while the stars shine above them.

He's the best Harry’s had. It's going to be hard go back to real life.

~~~

_**2-6 days** _

As the week goes on, things get easier. Harry’s less of an emotional mess, and even when he is, Louis is there to braid his hair or draw him a bath. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine his life without morning meaning Louis plucking notes on his guitar and humming lyrics he'll write down on Harry’s ribs if there isn’t a notebook near.

It’s funny how they fall seamlessly into each other, stupid, pointless conversations flowing naturally. Almost as if they were lifelong friends that didn’t talk for a couple of years, but are now catching up like nothing happened.

They share a lot of things that might be too personal to tell someone you’re just getting to know, but they are married and Harry doesn’t let Louis forget that. Just like Louis uses every opportunity he gets to make fun of Harry’s banana dog made of porcelain.

Plus, Harry’s getting fucked on a daily basis. It’s definitely the highlight of their first week as a married couple. When he tells Louis just that, Louis stops brushing his teeth to give him a huge, foamy smile and says, “Now you’ll want me to stay here forever.”

(He doesn’t know how true that is.)

One night they terrorize the grocers by having a trolley race in the middle of the cereal aisle to decide how many boxes of Coco Pops Louis gets to take home. Turns out Louis has a sweet tooth that breaks boundaries and scowls at vegetables without noticing. Harry can’t even bring himself to scold him about the importance of a balanced meal because a scruffy, sleepy Louis holds too much power over him.

They're basically living a rom-com. There's a dancing in the kitchen and kissing in the park while they hold hands and eat organic ice cream. They trade family pictures and antics until their throats go raw.

Harry had no idea being married could be so much fun. It probably isn't. It's probably a Louis thing. Yeah.

~~~

7 days

"Wake the fucking fuck up!" Niall whisper shouts in his ear.

Harry jumps and gasps a very manly gasp, shivers encompassing his body when he flails and feels Louis wrapped around him. His hand slaps Louis’ nose, but he only whines sleepily. Harry’s first thought is that he married someone that could honestly sleep through an earthquake. Then Niall punches him in the stomach, and pulls him out his internal Louis monologue. “Jesus fuck Niall! Didn’t Maura teach you how to knock!”

Niall cackles a villain's laugh. “My Ma will not be pleased when I tell her you said that,” he pushes on Harry’s shoulder so he can budge over and make room for his annoying Irish ass. “I did knock, mate. You were just too busy getting married to hear me come in.”

Niall’s glaring. Niall doesn’t glare unless Harry gets in serious trouble with Barbara. Oh dear God. “Is she here?” Harry asks and pulls the covers up to his chin. He’s naked and Barbara is going to kill him. This isn’t how Harry wants to go.

Louis rolls over and hides his head under his pillow. He is not even waking up to hear Harry’s last words, what kind of spouse is he.

“Oh no, if she was here you wouldn’t even live to see this morning. She’s coming later. I’m here to give you the courtesy of letting you know this is your last day on Earth. ‘Cause I’m nice and don’t hide important things from you, such as getting married and dying.”

Harry is not a total jerk, so he lifts up his left hand for Niall to see the wedding ring he’s so in love with. “Surprise?”

Niall slaps his hand away. “I fucking hate you,” he hisses. “Wake up, lover boy, before Liam gets here and whoops your skinny, dumb ass,” Niall kicks him before getting out of the bed.

Liam? “Liam Payne,” Harry mumbles, horrified.

“Yes. Liam Payne, who cut his holiday in Monaco short to come here and lecture you, so at least air the room. It stinks of sex.”

Harry would rather die than tell his sister he met her teenage crush naked while his husband’s come leaks out of his ass. “Niall, you have to buy us some time. We need to leave the country. You have to help us."

Niall gives him a dirty look. “I already bought you a week. One you used to get married behind our backs. What I’m gonna do now is sit back, eat the cupcakes you have on the kitchen counter, and enjoy how he'll hand you your ass."

He walks out of the room. Harry is terrified for his life.

***

Waking up Louis proves to be an easy task. All Harry does is shake him a few times and say urgently “Liam is on his way,” to get Louis running around the room like a headless chicken that is about to be set on fire.

He doesn’t even kiss Harry good morning in his haste to get clean and prepared for their imminent deaths. Harry sits in bed and pouts until Louis comes out of the shower to kiss him, little droplets staining the sheets with both of them smiling like the proper losers they are.

They walk out of their room and into the living room, heads held high and hands clasped tight.

“Hiya Liam!” Louis says when they get close enough. He’s grinning as if he just won the lottery. “This is my husband Harry Tomlinson-Styles."

Niall swallows his own tongue. Liam Payne looks dead for six whole seconds.

"How? When? Why? I don't- Louis. God." Liam Payne also looks like a sad puppy with sad eyes and sad eyebrows and sad mouth. It makes Harry want to pet his shaved head.

Niall opens his mouth, doesn’t say anything, closes it and opens it again. "When I said do whatever you want, I meant get a tattoo on your ass or shave your head! Not elope with my bartender!"

Louis looks personally offended with the prospect of Harry shaving his hair. He starts petting the curls, an upset tilt grazes his lips. Harry is trying hard to not burst out laughing at everyone's faces. He better get an award for this, or, better yet, he should be rewarded with an empty home and Louis bent over the kitchen counter so Harry can eat his ass.

"Explain to me your thought process, please. This is not a good idea. What are you even getting from this?" Liam demands very seriously. Harry wants to pull his cheeks.

He's just starting to consider if the odds are in his favor to pull that off when he notices the way Louis' eyes are twinkling. Oh no. Harry knows that look. It turns out that when you have someone balls deep in you for two days, you get to know them surprisingly well. He's been provided with enough to know that Louis is about to say something which will probably end up with Harry pissing his pants as the punch line.

"Well, Liam, I still don't know what I'm getting from this except a nice insurance and dental care plan, but I do know why Harry signed the papers." Licking his lips, he looks at Liam steadily, as if he's ready to pounce a surprise attack on him. "Harry's getting head. So much head, Li, you would not believe how insatiable my dear Harry is."

Harry can't contain it. He laughs like a hyena at the pure and utter horror painting Niall and Liam's faces when they register Louis' words. Louis preens, obviously, like the ridiculous peacock he is when he makes Harry laugh like a mad man.

Liam's pupils widen, realization dawning on him. He whispers, "Your mom is going to kill me," terrified. The poor thing looks so scared.

Louis waves him off. “My mom is going to adore Harry. You’re just worried you’re not gonna be her fave anymore.” There’s only a loveseat left open, so Louis sits down and pulls Harry on his lap. Harry swears Liam’s eye twitches.

Niall eyes them up before he answers, frown gone as he smiles faintly at them. “You have meddling neighbors with Barbs’ number on speed dial. Barbara called Sophia, and also threatened to call your sister, but I convinced her to wait for that one. So now you owe me a big renewal ceremony where I get to make a speech and embarrass you in front of half of Holmes Chapel.”

Liam sobs besides him. “When did you even find time to do all of this?" he asks Louis as he gestures towards them. "You said you were working on the album."

"And I am," Louis replies. "It's coming along great, I think you'll love it. Harry does, right, babe?"

Well, considering he's only heard little fragments of tunes... "Yeah, I love it," Harry says honestly. He just really likes anything Louis does.

"Li, you have to relax, okay?" Louis says when he sees Liam considering Harry dubiously. "Harry's great. And we're having fun. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, we just weren't ready," Louis is being his earnest and apologetic self. Harry can't imagine how Liam would be able to resist that.

"I'm sorry too, Niall. All of this is a little crazy, but we're fine. I'm okay and Louis has been amazing so just, forgive me? Please?"

Niall rolls his eyes. Over the years he has become immune to Harry's big doe eyes, but he still stands with open arms and pulls him and Louis into a bear hug. "Nothing to forgive, you ass. I have eyes. Just order something expensive for Barbara so she doesn't cut our balls off." He pulls away and pats Louis' cheek a bit harder than necessary. Louis smiles gleefully. "Look after my boy, Tommo. You might have to go into the witness protection program if you hurt him."

"Duly noted," Louis concedes easily. Harry wants to cover his face in kisses. He's about to do so when Louis turns to Liam with a hopeful look on his face. "Li?"

Harry sees the moment Liam gives in. The tension leaves his shoulders and he smiles a tiny bit, but he doesn't answer Louis. Instead, he focuses on Harry. "Can we talk? Alone?"

Harry freezes. Liam Payne wants to lecture him alone. Gemma is going to be so jealous. "Yeah, sure." Liams stands up and Harry does the same, but he gives Louis a little peck before leading Liam to the backyard.

Looking over his shoulder, he catches Louis giving him a thumbs up and mouthing good luck. God, Louis is too cute for this world.

Liam clears his throat when they're outside, knitted eyebrows directed at Harry with his goofy smile. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself before. I'm Liam Payne," he offers his hand for Harry to shake.

Sixteen-year-old Harry is screaming somewhere in another universe. "It's alright. I'm Harry Styles. Well, Tomlinson. Tomlinson-Styles, now."

"You took his last name?" Liam asks, surprised even though Louis had told him that already. Maybe he thought it was a joke.

"He wanted mine, but it sounded a bit silly, so we compromised," Harry tells him brightly.

Liam stays quiet for a minute, looking down at his shoes before taking a deep breath and speaking again. "He's a good lad, Louis. And he's been having a couple of rough years. So were you, for what Niall told me. I'm just trying to make sure he won't end up hurt on my doorstep. You can see where I'm coming from, yes?"

Liam's huge brown eyes are totally peering into Harry’s soul. There’s no way he can’t be anything but one hundred percent honest with him. “He’s the best thing that's happened to me in so long. I don’t know what I’d be doing if he wasn’t here with me."

“You really do care about him,” Liam states. He’s not wrong.

Harry twists his ring around his finger, searching for words that can convey his real feelings about Louis, but can’t find them. “I meant my vows,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

It’s enough for Liam, apparently, because he pulls Harry into a crushing hug and smiles genuinely. “Welcome to the family, then."

***

It’s all fun and games until Barbara and Sophia arrive with murderous looks, their high heels ringing through the house like a countdown to their execution.

Before the girls arrived, Niall had proposed a barbeque to celebrate “the lovebirds” and Liam had agreed instantly. Harry and Louis were both very happy to see them get along, so much that they didn’t mind all the teasing they were doing as revenge for giving them the scare of their lives.

Liam and Louis were in the middle of telling a story about the time Liam got stuck in a snake habitat when Barbara and Sophia showed up with narrowed eyes and very pointy nails. Niall, who was in charge of the grill, turned around and spat his beer all over Harry’s face. Louis and Liam would usually to hold in their laughter, but they were too scared of the girls to even move.

There’s an awkward silence as everyone waits to see who will die first.

“This is so ridiculous,” Louis says, because of course he fucking does. The boy has a death wish and couldn’t care less if he left Harry as a widower. “Girls, you’re terrorizing Harry. Could you please tell him it’s alright so he cleans up Niall’s spit from his face.”

Barbara and Sophia assess Louis. Harry considers making a run for it, but that wouldn’t be very husband-y of him, seeing as Louis just defended him. Then, the girls burst out in laughter and Sophia hands Barbara a tenner.

There’s shocked gasps all around.

“You did not make a bet on me, Barbara Palvin,” Harry says very unamused.

“She did and now I’m tenner-less. Thanks a lot, Harry,” Sophia says as she struts over to Liam and settles under his arm. Liam, honest to God, looks like a love-struck puppy. He’s only missing the wagging tail.

“Stop it with your tings, man, at my boy!” Louis yells and runs from Sophia’s pinchy fingers to clean up Harry with napkins. He’s so sweet that Harry has to kiss him just a little. Niall gags. Louis flips him off.

Barbara sneaks up on them and pinches their arms until they pull away yelping. “Get married again behind my back and I will set your guitar and house on fire,” she waits for them to nod, then smiles as if the sun was shining out of their asses. “Good. I guess I owe you a congratulations now. You two are so cute together.”

Louis smiles with pride and lays his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

***

Harry sits back and lets the sound of Louis’ laughter encompass him. He doesn’t regret this, being married to a wonderful boy that cares for him, but watching him joke around with a couple of Harry’s favorite people on Earth tells him he made the right choice when he didn’t leave Louis’ flat that first day.

This is a good thing and Harry is going to hold on to it for as long as possible, and maybe a lot more after that.

He goes over what Liam told him, about Louis getting hurt. And just the thought of putting Louis under any kind of pain like that, where he has to leave his side, makes Harry’s skin crawl. Louis shines too bright to be dimmed by someone like Harry.

Harry may have no idea of what he is doing or why Louis chooses to stick with him every day, but he knows this is what he wants. Louis by his side, commanding the room’s attention but always looking over his shoulder to make sure Harry is having a good time, too.

Harry is taking him in now, telling the story of their grand proposal and the only thing he can think is I would do pretty much anything to help Louis grow into the little sun he's meant to be.

~~~

_**9 days** _

Harry has to go back to work because Barbara is a very mean person who snitched on Harry. Lou yelled at him for half an hour and then put Lux, his goddaughter, on the phone so she could yell at him too. Louis was laughing the entire time, so at least something good came out of it.

Now, Harry knows spending so much time with Louis and only Louis can't be very healthy, and they probably do need to spend some time apart. However, that didn't stop him from being reluctant about leaving Louis all by himself. Louis said it would be fine, that now Liam is in town and they could work on his album properly.

Then morning came. Harry's alarm woke them and Louis clung to him like a baby koala until Harry really really really had to leave. He sulked the whole way to work.

Lou pulled his ear as soon as she laid eyes on Harry, but her act of being mad at him lasted two entire minutes. It fell when she saw Harry's ring, which gave Harry the chance to gush about Louis and show off the candids he’s been taking of him doing nothing and everything.

Overall, it was a good day. He got to play with some babies, catch up with Lou, and help Lux with her homework. Still, he rushes out the door the second his shift is done.

He just misses Louis a lot, okay? Especially after all the very explicit texts he kept sending. He bumps into a bunch of people on his way home, and Harry wishes he could tell them his incredibly fit husband could be waiting for him naked and ready. He’s sure they would understand.

When Harry opens up the door and steps into the house, Louis is very much not naked. Not even a little. Hell, he is not even there. In his place, there’s a guy sitting on the floor, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, glancing up at Harry with a mildly apologetic smile.

“Hi mate,” The guy greets with a half assed salute.

Harry looks around, trying to figure out if he broke into someone else’s house. He spots Louis’ guitar though, so, no, this is very much his house and there’s a stranger eating his food. Awesome. “Hello,” Harry says, tentative. “Uhm, do I know you?”

Peanut Butter Guy shakes his head and moves to stand up, leaving his sandwich on Harry’s coffee table. “No, ‘M Zayn. Louis’ old roomie?”

Zayn. Louis’ old roomie. Okay.

"Harry," He offers, cool and polite. "Do you know where's Louis?"

“Right here,” Louis says, bounding down the stairs. He’s a sight, freshly shaved with his hair done up in a quiff. He melts into Harry when he reaches him, standing on his tippy toes for a kiss. "Missed you," he murmurs on Harry's lips.

The whole world narrows down to this boy and all the ways Harry can touch him now. "Missed you more."

Louis crosses his eyes to peel a laugh out of Harry. "Not possible," he challenges as he moves to stand on Harry's toes and loop his arms around his neck.

Harry has to pull him close, how can he not when he's been itching to do this all day. "I just got nauseous at your sappiness."

"I'm sick to my stomach. Ugh, ew," Louis agrees with delight.

Zayn clears his throat.

Louis laughs and steps out of Harry’s reach. What a pity. “Z, you’ve met Harry. He’s my husband.”

Harry wonders if he’ll ever stop getting little bursts of electricity to his heart every time Louis introduces him as his husband. He even told a squirrel three days ago, and Harry couldn’t stop giggling like a fool after that.

"Harry, this is Zayn. The one that put graffiti on the walls and cost me the deposit."

Zayn seems amused by the entire exchange, and that’s great, because Harry would be devastated if anyone that close to Louis hated him. “Pleasure to meet you. Louis has been talking my ear off about they way you snore all morning.”

He and Louis flush, both of them making low annoyed noises in the back of their throats. “I do not snore!” Harry defends at the same time Louis cries, “I did not talk about Harry all day."

They're one of those couples. Great.

At least Zayn doesn't call them out on their bullshit. "Right," he says, breathing out a small laugh. "Lou was just about to show me the song he's been working on."

"No, I wasn't." Louis shakes his head quickly and pushes Zayn to sit on the couch.

Zayn frowns. "Yeah, you were."

Louis laughs it off, sliding his ring on and off. "I really wasn't. Zayn is jet lagged, don't listen to him, baby."

Something funny rolls around in Harry's stomach, and it doesn't feel nice. "I can, uhm, go out? If you want to show Zayn."

"No, no. You just got here. And Zayn wanted to tell me about Sweden, right Zayn? C'mere, baby."

Harry turns to look at Zayn and he shrugs, playing dumb. Alright then. "Okay."

***

Harry is not a jealous person, he isn't. Well, he wasn't with Axel when they were together, and before him Harry didn't date much. So... Harry is not a jealous person at all.

Except he kind of wants to bare his teeth at Zayn and put Louis over his shoulder to carry him away. Harry feels like an asshole, because clearly Louis is very happy Zayn is here, and if Harry goes by the way he keeps asking Zayn for little details of dumb things, he can tell Louis missed his friend.

But they're just so touchy.

The logical part of Harry's brain tells him it's normal, that Louis was like this with everyone two days ago and Harry was fine with it. Sure, everyone else had their partners with them, so Harry really didn't care and Zayn is just basking in Louis' attention. Which makes the illogical part of his brain want to yell "Mine!" and point at their rings. Maybe get their marriage certificate out, too.

At one point, Louis and Zayn are play-fighting and rolling around on the floor and Harry, well. He almost launches himself after them. But he's not a dickhead, so he says something or other about the kitchen and retreats before he embarasses himself and Louis files for divorce.

He’s banging his head very quietly against the sink when someone taps his shoulder and it’s not Louis. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Y’alright mate?” Zayn talks like Louis, his accent going thick when he finds something funny. Harry hates everything.

“Fine,” Harry lies, and considers how to drown himself under the faucet.

Zayn pats him between his shoulder blades. How nice of him. If only he wasn’t trying to steal Harry’s husband. “I’m sure you are, but I just thought I’d let you know Louis is pretty besotted with you."

“What?” Harry spins on his heels too quick and gets a dizzy spell, but that does not stop him from focusing on Zayn’s beautiful face to figure out if he’s playing Harry.

“Yeah. Never seen him like this before,” he falters and directs a gloomy smile to Harry, his eyes flashing sadness. “Well there was this one time but it was so long ago. You’re good for him. He’s been writing again, and I can tell he’s important for you, too, so…"

That’s not very, uh, reassuring? Not with the way Zayn seems heartbroken. Harry is going to sound like a jerk here, but he has to know before he drives himself mad. “You and him, were you guys together? Before? I mean, you’re gorgeous and I’d understand, but I-”

Zayn snorts. He snorts in Harry’s face. Wow. “I’m ace. And aromantic. Louis is like my big brother, and I could never look at him the way you do.”

Oh. Oh. Jeez, Harry really is the biggest jerk in the universe. "Sorry. I'm not this rude, usually. I'm very sorry." Now would be a good moment for the ground to swallow him whole.

"It's alright. Like I said, you're good for Louis. Just don't fuck it up," Zayn advices joyfully, shaking off his crestfallen attitude.

Harry tries to clear his muddy thoughts to match Zayn's grin. "Feel free to haunt me if I do."

“No need for that, Liam and Louis’ sisters have got it covered. I’ll just be recording it for shits and giggles.”

Louis’ pretty head pops in the doorway, a divine smile teasing them. “You guys done measuring dicks? I’m hungry, Hazza.”

“We have. In fact, Harry and I have decided you’re the middleman and we’re cutting you off. We are eloping tomorrow,” Zayn informs him with a serious face.

Harry almost squeaks, but then he sees Louis pretending to hurl so he lets it go. “Get the fuck out of my house, prick,” Louis tells him, walking up to Harry and flipping Zayn off. “We will not be feeding Zayn tonight.”

Harry kisses his forehead and nods along, revelling in Louis' touch. “Of course, babe.”

"Harry makes some mean fajitas, Z. Sucks to be you."

"Liam was right, you two are horrible together."

***

After a very lovely dinner that everyone enjoys (now that Harry managed to pull his head out of his ass), Louis and Zayn stay in the living room catching up. Harry begs off, only because he's tired and does have to get up early the next day.

He can't sleep, though. And it's not because of his irrational jealous streak from before, it really isn't.

He's lying in bed, tucking his nose under Louis' pillow in the hopes that will make his brain rest, but it's not working. Liam and Zayn's words are echoing inside his head, and Harry can't shut them up.

He's been having a couple of rough years. There was this one time but it was so long ago.

Harry's mind is reeling, trying to put a puzzle together with the few pieces he has. And it's not working, not at all.

Maybe it's not important. If it was something big, Louis would have told him by now. Harry wants to believe that, really, but there's still so much they don't know about each other. And they were doing this for fun, to get Harry's mind off Axel. What if Louis won't tell him anything serious or real because he thinks this is still a game?

When did Harry even stop looking at it as a game?

There's no time to figure out an answer. Louis comes in the room quietly, shutting the door behind him softly and shuffling his feet against the carpet to climb into bed and under the covers.

Harry can't breathe or move.

"You're awake," Louis murmurs as he arranges himself to Harry's back. He falls back into him without a second thought. Louis kisses the slope of his shoulder, noticing Harry's tension isn't going anywhere. "You're still upset about the Zayn thing?"

"No," Harry answers calmly.

Louis doesn't seem to believe him, seeing as he climbs over Harry and settles right in his eyeline. He's determined, Harry will give him that. "You don't have to be jealous. You're. You're something different, to me. Important. I could never do that to you."

He sounds sincere, and Harry knows this, knows Louis is not Axel. They're opposite ends, and Harry would never dare to compare them. But he did live with Axel for three years, so Harry knows what it looks like when someone's holding something back.

It boils down to Harry learning to pick his fights. He wants things to stay the same, because, so far, they have been living together perfectly fine. Louis has so many reasons to doubt Harry, and he's still here, going out of his way to make sure he's doing alright.

Louis is a dream, too good to be something Harry deserves to have in bed with him day and night. Harry is not about to change that because of a stupid scar Axel left him with.

So, using the dark room as an ally, Harry smiles reassuringly and kisses Louis in hopes he lets the whole subject go. Forever, preferably. "It's okay, Lou. I just couldn't sleep without you."

Louis' resolve softens, pulling Harry back in to give him a kiss that tastes like honey. "We're okay?"

"We're okay."

Wishful thinking never got Harry too far.

~~~

_**14 days** _

It's six in the morning and there's two girls sitting on Harry's table. He screams bloody murder. They lift up their eyebrows at him in a familiar way, unimpressed.

Oh my god.

Harry swallows, coughs into his fist, and waves awkwardly. "Hi."

They stare at him. Harry feels nauseous.

"Did a bug bite you?" The brunette girl--Fizzy, Harry's sleepdeprived brain provides for him--points at Harry's chest.

Harry closes his eyes, he doesn't need to look down to check himself. Damnnit. "No," he wants to tell them. "Your brother did." But that wouldn't be very polite. First impressions matter even if they are in boxers and sporting some wild sex hair.

Opening his eyes, Harry finds both girls trying to hold in their laughter. So, mocking Harry is a genetic trait. Good to know.

Harry has done a lot of stupid shit over the course of 23 years. Meeting his sisters-in-law, covered in bite marks their brother left on him from head to toe, is definitely in the top five.

"Girls, be nice to your new brother," a motherly voice admonishes from Harry's left, coming from the living room.

pleasegodpleasedon'tdothispleasegod.

Harry, resigned to his fate of pissing his pants in fear, turns to find Louis' mum smiling warmly at him with a tiny girl in her arms. She's gorgeous, which Harry already knew from the pictures and videos Louis' siblings keep sending to him. And she seemed lovely. She is lovely, if you consider the circumstances and the fact that Harry married her son without her knowledge or permission.

If only Harry could get words out of his mouth, that would be incredible.

"I'm Johanna. Louis' mum, and of these terrors, too," she rolls her eyes good-naturedly at the girls that are now tittering at Harry's expense. "I like to believe I taught you girls some manners, so please stop making fun of Harry and say hello."

The blonde one lifts her head from the table and giggles a few times before she can speak without her eyes watering. "I'm Lottie, the oldest."

"Fizzy," the one that looks the most like Louis says between chortles of laughter.

Okay, they’re all pretty cute. Harry would congratulate Jay on her genes. But he can’t talk. Not a peep. Best day of Harry’s life, to be honest.

“I think we broke him, mum,” Lottie says, a cringe on her face.

Jay studies him a couple of long, drawn out seconds and puts her toddler on the floor. She reaches out to tug on Harry’s wrist, and feel his pulse. “Well, he’s not dead,” she decides with a small grin. “Dear, would you like to take a sit? Your mom and sister are going to be here soon, and I’d hate it if they found you like this.”

His mum and sister-

Harry’s going to pass out. Harry is honest to God ready to pass out. Harry does actually pass out, but not before he makes the sound of a dying animal.

***

The first person Harry sees when he wakes up is his sister, Gemma, peering down at him. He shuts his eyes quickly.

“I saw you Harry!” Gemma exclaims and pushes her finger in the middle of Harry’s forehead. Rude.

“He’s awake?” Louis’ worried voice comes from some place close. It feels like ages since Harry last saw him. “Hey, love. Can you open your eyes for me?” There he is, much closer, touching Harry’s forehead and pushing back his hair. Harry tries to take a peek at him with one eye, and catches something that looks like relief in his smile. “You coming back to me?”

“Always,” Harry says instantly, and he can feel his lips forming a smile.

“Good,” Louis says quietly, sighing. “Does anything hurt, baby?”

Well, now that he asks. “Head hurts,” Harry mutters, closing his eyes again. "Your mum is here."

"She is," Louis confirms. "Your mum and sister are here, too."

"Hello sweetheart," the melodic voice of Harry's mum interjects. “Louis’ sisters gave you a bit of a scare, didn’t they?” she jokes, sweetness laced in her tone. Harry missed her so much.

“He’s the one that almost crushed Dottie to death! A child her age will never be able to recover from that!” Gemma argues loudly. Harry did not miss her at all.

Louis laughs openly, charmed, and it sounds like the soft tinkling of little bells. It’s nice. Louis is so nice. “Harry will pay for the therapy. Don’t worry, Gems.”

Gems. Louis is calling Harry’s sister Gems. They’re going by nicknames now. “How long was I out for?” he questions and blinks his eyes open once more. This time he tries to keep them that way to check his surroundings. Harry is lying in bed. Louis and his mum are by both of his sides, Gemma is in front of him, and there’s clothes on his body. Interesting.

“Thirty to forty five minutes, I’d say...more or less,” Mum replies, taking Harry’s hand in hers. When Harry looks down, he sees her attention is focused on his wedding ring. “You kept waking up to fall back asleep a couple of times, but Jay said you’d be fine.”

Then, it hits Harry that she knows and Jay, too, probably. That’s why they are here, that’s why Harry passed out. Jesus Christ, they’re in for some trouble.

She lifts her gaze to meet Harry’s and there’s something swimming in her eyes Harry can’t pin down. Harry is hoping she’s not too upset over the whole ‘Axel Broke Up With Me So I Married Someone Else’ thing.

“I think you were just exhausted and a bit shocked, darling,” Louis adds, his cheeks rosy and eyes glimmering. “My sisters can be a lot sometimes.”

Harry huffs, “It was just two of them,” but his eyes stay glued to the happy glow that’s coming out of Louis’ expression. Harry has a feeling he missed something.

“My new favorites, to be honest,” Gemma supplies playfully. “I reckon you picked a great husband with awesome sister-in-law for me, little bro.”

Louis’ face nearly splits in half with the force of his smile. He’s so beautiful, too beautiful for Harry’s sore eyes. “She approves of us,” Louis whispers conspiratorially. “But I’ve discovered she’s very passive aggressive about it.”

Gemma bursts out laughing and Mum giggles quietly behind the back of her hand. Maybe getting wrapped around Louis’ finger minutes after meeting him is in their DNA as well. Harry should conduct studies about it when he stops being in awe for the way they’re all getting along brilliantly.

"Anne, on the other hand, is a work in progress," he winks at Harry's mum, all smooth and lovely, unlike Harry when he met Jay. "But I'll get to her, babe, don't worry."

Mum shakes her head fondly, big smile directed at Louis. "In the mean time, why don't you let Jay and your sisters know Harry is okay now. They were worried sick when we got here."

"Yes ma'am," Louis nods and leans down to press a kiss to Harry's cheekbone. "'S what they get for being mean to you," he says in an undertone, only for Harry to hear, before he presses another kiss to his warm skin. "I'll come back with fruit, yeah? Hopefully there's still some left from the salad Zayn made."

Harry watches him go. He notices Gemma is smirking at them and has to blush because he knows they must look like a pair of loons.

“Before you lecture me,” Harry begins to say, breaking the expectant silence his mum and sister are giving him. “I just want you to know I’m sorry for not telling you guys before, but I’m happy. I’m very happy, if that matters.”

Mum slaps his hand gently. “Of course it matters!” she chastises him. “It’s all that matters, Harry. And if Louis helps with that, all I can do as your mother is be grateful for it."

Harry gapes at them, sitting up and pushing down the dizziness that floods his head. "But you're not mad? About Axel?"

"Oh, we're mad," Gemma clarifies, coming up to settle in the space Louis left. "But not with you, H. Louis told us everything, and we are planning on setting dog shit on fire inside his office."

"So you don't care I married some random guy three days after meeting him!?"

Mum smiles at him, a knowing look in the crinkles by her eyes (the same one Niall keeps giving him when he comes over). "But he's not some random guy now, is he, Dear?"

"No," Harry responds without a doubt. "He's- He's out of this world, and he's a handful but I lo-" Harry stops in his tracks. I love that about him, he was about to say.

But that's a big word. Too Big. Harry's head is not in the right place, he's not thinking straight. He's talking nonsense, doesn't know what he's saying.

"We're having fun," is all Harry can say before he starts getting funny looks.

He can see his mum doesn't buy it, but she doesn't pressure for more.

Gemma does that for her. "Having fun, yeah, we can see that." She points at Harry's neck with mirth.

"A handful," Harry repeats, locking away his messy thoughts and pushing them to the back of his mind. He musters a smirk from God knows where to make Gemma roll her eyes.

"Alright, alright. We don't need to know that, Harry," Mum pats his hand and stands up to lead his sister out of the room. "We'll let Louis nurse you back to health while Jay and I pull out your baby pictures."

"What?" Harry makes a high-pitched cry of protest. "Mum, no! I already embarrassed myself in front of her, please don't do that."

"Well, we can't exactly bond over wedding stories. Baby pictures will have to make due." She doesn't let Harry argue back, and walks out of the room with a smug expression.

Harry missed her so much.

***

“The girls are taking pictures of our mums looking at our baby pictures,” Louis shares as he comes into their room with a look of pure terror on his face.

As soon as he’s close enough and there’s no risk of spilling fruit on their covers, Harry pulls him in and kisses that look right off. Louis, being the total sucker for everything Harry does and says, kisses him right back.

It’s been two weeks and Harry still can’t get over how much they just kiss for fun, and how half the time it’s just their teeth clanking together because they can’t be bothered to stop smiling like the idiots they are.

“So you’re feeling better,” Louis points out breathless.

Harry nods, biting his lip coyly. “Much. When did you notice they were here?”

Making a face, Louis has him budge over to climb next to him. “When they came running into the room yelling in my ear about you having a heart attack,” he takes the bowl of cubed up mango and starts feeding them to a very scandalized Harry. “I almost tripped down the stairs because the sheets were all bunched up around my legs."

“Oh no, Lou.”

Louis shrugs, popping in a few pieces of fruit into his own mouth. “We survived, though. And now the cat is out of the bag.”

Harry scoots down the bed with a sigh, resting his head on Louis’ belly to get his hair petted. "I didn’t need to faint in front of half your family. I have a feeling they will never let it go.”

Louis puffs out a laugh. “Oh they won’t. We'll be ten feet down and they’ll still laugh about it on top of our graves." He places mango on Harry's lips and waits for him to swallow it before continuing. "But my mom thought that was adorable. Lottie and Fizzy thought you were scared of them so now they're gonna boss you around. The two pairs of twins will pout and goad you into falling because they missed all the fun."

"That just sounds like a lot of different things you'd do if I fell," Harry says, giggling.

"Excuse me," There's a tug on his hair for the comment, Louis glowering at him when Harry looks. "Did you not hear the part where I almost cracked my head open on the stairs on my way to rescue you, or did you just choose to ignore how heroic your husband turned out to be?"

Harry doesn't say anything. He puckers up his lips and watches how Louis huffs, looks away, then leans down to kiss him quickly, the mango juice sticky between them.

"Gross," Harry cleans himself with his forearm, pretending to gag with nausea.

"You were eating my ass three hours ago, Harry Styles."

"Tomlinson."

"Tomlinson-Styles," Louis narrows his eyes. "I liked you better when you were unconscious."

"We're still in time for a divorce," Harry jokes just to see Louis' eyes flare up with possessiveness.

"I did not stutter the entire time I was trying to talk to your mother so you could ask for the divorce right after."

"You stuttered?" That's cute. Louis is so cute.

"Of course I did! Her son was passed out on the floor, half naked and covered in lovebites. Not exactly the first impression I wanted to make on my mother in law."

What Harry would have given to see that video. "Gemma took a shine to you."

"She said I was funny and cute and also she was happy she didn't have to spend more awkward Christmas dinners with that Axel guy." He's so pleased with himself.

"Those were really awkward," Harry concedes. One particular year, they had nothing to say (at least nothing his family wanted Axel to hear), so Harry and Gemma took it upon themselves to be the life of the party and get plastered on cheap drugstore wine and murder the Spice Girls discography on karaoke.

Louis' belly rumbles with laughter. "I think our mums are starting to plan this year's dinner. I heard something about being robbed of memories."

“So they’re getting along?” Harry asks in disbelief. Honestly, two weeks ago, he was dreading letting everyone know Louis even existed. But now, the most important people in their lives are swapping notes and planning things for the future.

It feels like a dream. “They are, sugar. They’re getting along just fine.”

***

Their families are getting along too well, Harry would say.

Gemma’s got two toddlers on her lap and two identical girls braiding her hair. Jay and Mum are having tea and Fizzy is curled up next to Mum with Lottie sitting on the floor by her feet. It gives Harry whiplash.

“Dear!” Jay exclaims happily when she notices him and Louis hovering in the doorway. “You feeling any better?”

Every head in the room turns to look at them with expectant eyes. Louis nudges him with laughter in his eyes. “Yes,” Harry chokes out. “I’m better. Sorry if I scared you or the girls.”

“It was cute,” Fizzy comments as Mum pets her cheek.

Louis beams, taking Harry’s hand in his to move into the living room. “Of course it was. Harry is the cutest.”

“Hey!” The older twins protest at the same time, causing everyone else to laugh at the little frowns on their faces.

“Okay, alright,” Louis corrects himself. “Harry is the second cutest. Right after Daze and Pheebs.”

“He says that to everyone. Half an hour ago I was the cutest for not eating that mango in the fridge,” Lottie says with an accusing tone.

Gemma gasps dramatically. “I was the cutest just for being related to Harry."

"Lou, I think you're in trouble," Harry warns him, flopping down and pulling Louis towards him with a grunt.

Louis blows out a breath, fake exasperated, and shakes his head. “None of you are cute. The clear winners are Dottie and Ernie, isn’t that right, loves?” He opens up his arms towards them. The little boy and girl jump out of Gemma’s lap and soon enough, Harry and Louis have little humans charging towards them.

Both kids wiggle in Louis’ embrace when he blows raspberries on their cheeks, crying for mercy and screaming their little lungs out as he pretends to munch on them. Harry’s heart is two seconds away from overflowing.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Louis twists his head to smile at Harry, radiant and happy. It may or may not take Harry’s breath away, but the kids are still giggling so the sound masks the hitch. “Loves, can you say hi to Harry, please.”

Dottie, the baby girl with vibrant red hair and doe eyes, gives him a huge grin, her little eyes squinting with the force of it. “Hi ‘Arry.” She even waves adorably. He coos a hello back for her.

Ernie, the baby boy with Louis’ eyes, shoves his little fist inside his mouth and mumbles, “Hello, hi,” shyly, his gaze settling on his big brother for reassurance. He lights up when Louis tells him he did a good job.

Harry is too busy having a meltdown over Louis’ small children, so he doesn’t notice when two girls, Daisy and Phoebe, tackle him down despite the worried yelp from Jay telling them to be careful.

“Lou likes you,” says the one with brown hair. Harry guesses she’s either Phoebe or Daisy.

“Do you like him?” questions the one with blonde hair, matching her sister’s serious face.

“I like him a lot,” Harry answers just as serious, looking up at them.

The both nod and give each other a look. Apparently, they decide he’s being honest because they smile warmly at him. “Very well. Can we braid your hair now? Lou promised you’d let us.”

“He said you’ve got lovely curls to play with. Lottie has been teaching us how to style hair, so it’s not like we’ll ruin yours or anything.”

Well, with faces like those, how can Harry refuse.

***

The afternoon flies by as they try to make the most of it. Everyone has to be back home for school and work the next day, so their mums don’t accept Harry and Louis’ offers to let them crash in their bedroom and on couches.

They all have a good time. After brunch, Louis decided he wanted to play footie in the yard. Gemma and Lottie were hard to convince, but in the end they agree to join their mismatched teams of toddlers and preeteens when he threatens to hide their phone chargers.

Harry and Louis team up against Daisy and Phoebe, obviously. The girls keep the kids and Gemma, so Harry and Louis end up with Lottie and Fizzy while Jay and Mum stay on the sidelines taking pictures and being mums.

Harry finds out soon enough all of the Tomlinson children have a competitive streak. Louis is a great leader, yelling instructions and showing off his thighs, much to Harry’s pain. Daisy and Lottie are not as good as Phoebe or Fizzy, but that doesn’t stop them from giving Harry hell whenever he manages to get the ball, which is not often. He’s pretty sure Ernie and Dottie pass it around more times than he does. Gemma is no good, either, so basically their team is screwed despite Louis’ efforts. At least Louis gives him little pecks whenever Harry manages to complete a pass.

They lose nine to one. Louis still proclaims them The Dream Team, capital letters and all.

Harry feels like a winner, though, because he gets to ogle his husband in peace after the game is done and the kids are shepherded inside the kitchen for snacks. And let him tell you, a sweaty, shirtless, flushed Louis riding high on adrenaline has to be one of the best things to walk this planet. It does suck a bit that Harry can’t devour him right then and there.

By nighttime, Jay has managed to embarrass Louis to the point where he announces he’s getting a new face and moving to Alaska.

“No one is invited except Harry with Doris and Ernest,” he says, taking the kids in his arms and walking up the stairs to let them have a nap in a real bed.

Harry makes Jay tell him more stories about Teen Louis and the time he woke up in an airport.

“He might have been a bit of a wild child for some time, but he settled after meeting the right people,” she explains, mouth twisting into a sad smile. “It was hard for him at times, having to take care of his sisters and dealing with his own growing pains, but he turned out alright. Wouldn’t you say so, Harry?”

Harry wants to tell her her son turned out more than alright. That Louis is loving and caring, so funny and smart, always open to anything and everything, and that he is the combination of the dreams Harry never even dared to dream. He wants to tell her how much he adores the little sniffling sounds Louis makes when he’s sleeping, how Harry can’t picture waking up without his raspy voice telling him good morning, and how much the bits and pieces of music Louis lets him hear impact his day.

Instead of all that, Harry nods and drinks from his tea. “He’s wonderful, Jay.”

***

"Let me help you, Dear." Mum approaches him in the kitchen, where he's putting away leftovers while Louis shows of his new songs to the older girls in the backyard.

(Harry is not allowed to listen, yet. He pouted for a full 24 hours until Louis promised it was a surprise that it wasn't ready. Harry has been trying to eavesdrop on whatever words he can catch ever since)

"I've got it, Mum," Harry tells her, smiling quietly. He really does want to hear what melody Louis is playing tonight.

"Yes, you do," she says, something like pride in her voice.

Harry sets aside the cupcakes he baked with Fizzy and Daisy, giving his mother all of his attention. "I have a feeling we aren't talking about the clean up anymore."

Mum laughs, standing by his side and crossing her arms under her chest. "What you and Louis are doing, it's working for both of you, isn't it?"

"It is." Harry still can't believe all of this is happening, that it hasn't gone up in flames like he thought it would. "It just... happened. We don't have to try that hard to like each other."

"I thought so. Everyone can tell how much you mean to each other," she almost looks peaceful, not restless like she would when Harry would tell her about how scared he was of not doing the right things with Axel. "Are you guys planning on staying here?"

"No, not really," Harry answers sincerely. "The bedroom, where Axel and I used to sleep, isn’t ours. Louis has been helping throw out some stuff, but we haven't really done a lot of planning."

Louis started his own little project this week: making sure Harry is taking baby steps to move on from his old life. Harry wasn't really into it at first, mostly because he didn't know how much simple silly things meant to him until Louis asked if he could put them away. But then Louis blasted some music, started ripping sheets apart, and Harry got high on the sound of his laugh.

"Do you want to make plans with him, with your lives?"

Harry blinks. The million dollar question, that one. YesYesYes his heartbeat sings.

“We’re just having fun. I don’t think Louis wants to stay stuck with me forever,” Harry answers, eyes focusing on the kitchen tile Louis broke when he smashed Axel’s coffee mug.

His words feel like vile coming up from his stomach, like the first time you tell a lie and everything about you is just burning guilt.

His mum knows Harry better than he knows himself, so she lets him rest his head on her shoulder as she cradles him. He's not a little boy anymore, he has fold himself in half to get comfortable, but fuck it because this is exactly what he needs.

"He's a good boy, Harry. And the way he looks at you tells me enough to know he's here to stay." She rubs his back and he remembers being tiny and scared of the dark. "Talk to him. I know it's scary because of all that you've gone through, but if this is something you want, bottling things up won't take you anywhere."

“He’s so different from Axel, Mum. Sometimes I don’t even know what to do with myself when he’s around because I’ve never felt like this for anyone,” he confesses, voice a trembling mess.

“Listen, dear, if you want this to last, all you have to do is put everything behind. Get some closure from the Axel Era. If Louis helps with that, just talk with him. But, if being around him starts to get a bit much, maybe what you need is some time apart."

Harry shakes his head immediately, breaking free from his mother's hold. "He makes so happy. We could be doing nothing and I'd love every second of it."

"You know more than anyone that love isn’t always enough." his mum says gently.

"But it will be," Harry argues fiercely. He has to make her understand. "I want to make this work."

His mum sighs, and for a second Harry thinks he's going to have to explain how he would honestly leave the country if Louis decided he was done. But there's no need for that, because she smiles, fond and private. "No one ever believes me when I say you're as stubborn as a mule."

Harry smiles in relief. "He makes me want to do the impossible, I guess."

***

Believe it or not, the talk with his mum helped. Even if it was a mess and it left Harry feeling raw.

Louis picks up on it as soon as he steps back into the house, but he doesn’t say anything. He just waits until all of his siblings are strapped in their seats in his mum’s car, and they both watch as their families drive away.

“C’mon,” he says, leading Harry back inside with a hand on his waist. “We’re taking a bubble bath.”

Harry makes a small sound, pleased. “Best husband in the world!” Harry tries to imitate Niall, but his Irish accent is crap. Louis loves it whether he admits it or not.

“I truly married a dork,” he mutters. Harry laughs at him the whole way up.

Once they get to the bathroom, Louis makes him sit on the toilet seat and pulls out a basket full of bath bombs from the tub.

“When did you get that?” Harry asks with wide eyes. He literally told Louis like three days ago how much he missed taking bubble baths, and here is Louis now, presenting him with an entire collection of pretty, swirly colored bombs that smell amazing.

Louis plays nonchalant, setting the basket on Harry’s lap for him to choose one as he runs the tub. “I didn’t exactly get them. I just maybe, kind of, possibly used Liam’s name to get Lush to send us samples from their new collection. Kinda.”

“Louis, you didn’t.”

“I really didn’t,” he says with a mischievous little grin. “It’s not my fault Liam hasn’t changed his passwords since 2011. All I had to do was tweet a link and a pic and tada! Wedding present from Liam Payne!”

Here’s the thing. For the past week, Harry has been trying to put off a little word from his vocabulary every time Louis does something remotely adorable. And it’s been driving him crazy ever since Zayn told him he could never look at Louis the way Harry does. So, Harry has been paying more attention to his actions around Louis, which was pretty fucking stressful. Hence how he ended up in bed with Louis between his thighs for two whole days.

It was hard, trying to stop himself from spitting out praise for Louis any time he breathed near Harry. It was especially hard when Louis woke up earlier than him to get him breakfast in bed, or when he popped in at work to “play with Lux” when he actually missed Harry too much to wait for him at home. Harry can’t even mention the times Louis made sure that Harry always came before Louis even thought about touching himself. There was this one time where Harry was looking after his small flower bed when Louis sat by his side on the grass with Tashie and started singing to the plants because he read on the Internet that it helped them grow. Honest to God, Harry tasted blood in his mouth from biting his tongue that day.

So yeah, the thing is, Harry fell in love with Louis Tomlinson after less than two weeks of knowing him. There. He said it. In his inner monologue, but he said it. Fuck the little box he keeps locked away inside his brain. Harry is going to have this.

He’s in love with Louis Tomlinson--sue him.

And now Louis is looking at him as if he grew two heads in a matter of seconds.

“I can send them back? If you think it’s too much?” Louis offers with a sad tilt to his mouth.

Harry stands up and leaves the little basket of goods in his place very carefully. He struts over to Louis, and smashes their lips together. “You’re incredible,” he tells him, looking straight in him eyes and watching with rapt attention as Louis’ emotions swim through his pupils.

“It’s just a bunch of soaps, Haz,” Louis’ breathless laugh hits on Harry’s skin. He smells like grass and the sugar his sisters put in the icing for the cakes. He smells like a perfect day. Harry loves it. “You deserve better than that.”

“I don't care. I uhm, I loved it. You being here with me is enough. Thank you,” Harry explains reverently.

Louis sneaks his hands under Harry’s shirt, gifting him with that million-watt smile Harry loves. “What’s gotten into you, huh, bug?”

“Nothin’,” Harry replies, smiling back at Louis. “Just appreciating my husband, is all.”

“Can you do that while you’re naked inside a warm bath, and I run downstairs for your wine?”

Harry swoons, well, pretends to swoon. It makes Louis laugh. Harry loves it when Louis laughs. “Getting wined and bathed tonight, how lucky am I?” Patting Louis’ lovely bum, the one Harry loves more than anything ever, he sends him on his way to get the red wine from the fridge.

Louis only drinks it with him because he likes the way it stains Harry’s lips, and uses it as an excuse to kiss the flavor off them. Harry is not complaining though, he loves when Louis kisses him.

Harry revels in the smile Louis throws over his shoulder before disappearing from his sight. Harry felt every raw nerve screaming _ILoveYou!ILoveYou!ILoveYou!_

~~~

_**20 days** _

Married life is hard when you're trying to work up the courage to tell your husband you're in love with him.

Honestly, even the things Harry finds annoying about Louis, like peeing all over the toilet and not cleaning it up, make him want to pin him down and yell in his face, "You're a little shit and I love you!"

It's like once he opened the gates, a flood of love and endearment for this boy came crashing down, and he’s drowning it, but he can’t bare the thought of coming up for air.

He doesn't have a moment to rest. Louis literally never stops doing things that have Harry shooting hearts out of his eyes. Whenever he even thinks of Louis and how he leaves his shoes in the middle of the living room, heart eyes activate.

Harry knows his seams are ready to burst open with how much he just feels for Louis and his tendency to make his own commentary during movies he hates. He is not sure of how he has managed to make it this far. One time, he was really close to flipping over the table when Liam and Sophia had invited them for lunch, and Louis kept hooking their ankles under it as he flirted with the blushing waitress to get more free mozzarella sticks.

And Louis... Louis is stardust and magic and endless energy put together to make Harry’s world shine again. Louis is so fiercely devoted to everything he puts his heart and mind to, from talking with all of his sisters at least once a week to fighting the suits at Liam’s record label to get the songs they worked hard on be heard.

It’s like he’s a kid all over again and his first crush is Louis. All he cares about is holding his hand in front of everyone to show off their rings, and maybe tell anyone who’s willing to listen how much he adores it when he wears his clothes and keeps them for himself.

So yes, married life is hard, and Harry is loving every second of it and the lightness that comes with accepting he’s a goner for Louis Tomlinson ever since he puked three inches away from him. And Harry is planning on telling him just that as soon as he gets his lazy ass up.

***

Louis is sore. And tired. So very tired. His arse burns and his muscles tingle and his belly is rumbling. He's a mess, really, but all he wants is to sleep. Why can't anybody respect that?

"Babe, Lou," a talking finger is poking his eye socket, how wonderful. "Rise and shine, gorgeous. I got something for you," Talking Finger sounds a lot like his worst nightmare: Morning Harry.

Ugh. No, thank you. He can't deal with lovely, cheerful Harry who's the most horrible crazy morning person Louis has ever met (and that's saying a lot, considering Zayn was always up by ass crack of dawn swallowing yolks and doing push ups with some old dudes with disgusting, dirty beards on the telly).  
Harry holds too much power over Louis' heart. They've only known each other for 22 days and like 8 hours. Not that Louis is counting, his sister does. She keeps a chart and everything. To let Louis know how pathetic he is. Yes.

But he can't be blamed. It's not fair because Harry always looks so smug and pleased whenever Louis gives in. He already knows Louis would do anything for him. Even if it means waking up after the incredible marathonic sex they had three hours ago just to watch something ridiculous on YouTube, like a two hour long compilation of cats in mugs.

So weak, Louis is so weak.

"Lou, please, Harry whines. "It's good. I promise you'll love it."

If it's not a blowjob then there's no chance in hell Louis will get out of bed until at least 5 pm.

Harry sighs, and scratches Louis' scruffy jaw, as if the burn he left on Harry's thighs three hours ago was enough. "I know you're awake, Lou. You're not snoring."

That's a low blow, Louis does not snore. He's actually the victim here, having to put up with Harry's awful noises that, quite frankly, are louder than a chainsaw.

What a menace. Just for that, Louis is going to shut his eyes real tight until Harry feels his annoyance in his core.

It works. Harry squeals and pushes away the pillows in true caveman fashion because he has no manners or respect towards the person that made him come like five times three fucking hours ago. "Wake. Up. Louis," he says pointedly.

Louis groans, pouts, and kicks off the covers, thrashing his arms around in the hopes that they knock Harry out. They don't, which is sad, but he uses them to hide his face from the dusty sunlight that creeps through the ratty curtains. "No," Louis' raspy, thin voice leaves no room for argument.

"Please. For me, babe, do it for me." Harry pulls away his forearm and smiles charmingly down at him. Louis sleeps with a terror on a regular basis. How tragic.

Louis is not moving an inch, though. He knows what's going on and he's taking a stand as he looks at Harry in the eyes. "No. Go away, Harold."

Louis Tomlinson is a man with strong will power. He grew up with four sisters, so he knows all the tricks, whiny voices, and puppy eyes. Well, in this case, froggy eyes but he has morals, alright? So when he says no, it means no.

"Louis why are you wasting our time when we both know you're going to give in to me?" Harry says as he drops his pretence of look-at-me-I'm-an-adorable-kitten to roll his eyes at Louis. He rights up and stretches out, filling up every space with his strong shoulders and bright presence. Just to stomp on the floor like a child while holding a glass of some weird green liquid.

Not happening.

"Harold, why are you wasting every morning doing this when we both know I'm not drinking that monstrous shit." Which, well, it's not exactly true but Louis likes to pretend he has some dignity left. At least until he has enough tea and his contacts in.

Harry sighs like it's him who's getting bothered at eight in the bloody morning and tries his best glare. Now, he just looks like a very cute pissed off kitten and it's worse than any glare he could possibly manage. "Lewis."

"Harold."

"Just drink the smoothie."

"Over my dead body."

"You'll die of a heart attack if you don't have at least one healthy meal a day."

"That shit has asparagus, Harry! Why would I ever drink a smoothie made of fucking asparagus! My piss is going to burn if I drink that!"

Harry, like the annoying flop he is, puts the glass of green goop on the nightstand and proceeds to jump on the bed. "Because it's good for you and I made it for you and I'm really nice so you're drinking it."

The springs of the bed sound like they're going to break any second now, and the old wood that holds up the mattress is creaking dangerously. The floor is going to break and he will die thanks to his Yeti husband.

He even has to curl into a tiny ball to protect his dick from Harry's smelly feet. He closes his eyes and hopes for the best. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The mattress stops bouncing and then Louis can feel Harry sitting on his ribs, breath ghosting over his cheek. The bastard is smiling, too. Asshole. "Already told you. It's good for you and I'd like to keep you around for a very long time."

See, that's Louis' problem. Harry can get away with saying shit like that because he's a complete sweetheart and Louis happens to be in love with him since the boy —

Wait. Shit. No.

What. Did he just-

Fuck. Okay. Yeah, Louis is in love. With Harry. Shit. Louis also stopped breathing thirty seconds ago. Fuck.

Harry pulls back to look at him with curiosity flooding his eyes. It's adorable. "It won't kill you, you know? It's not venom, Louis."

Louis really hopes he's talking about the smoothie and not about how subtle Louis is at keeping his chill. Not that it matters. Harry's grin is so sweet Louis' teeth start to ache while his heartbeat stutters.

It feels right, a good, exciting type of ache.  
Yup, he's really in love with this boy. What's the point of denying it when Louis is a billion percent sure there isn't anyone out there who is, well, Harry. This Harry is one of a kind, and he chooses to spend his time looking after Louis and being with Louis and sharing himself with Louis. And his wild curls look beautiful in the morning. That's always a good thing, because he's very attached to those curls.

Harry's puzzled expression melts away the butterflies that have gathered inside Louis' stomach. "Y'alright, Lou?"

Louis smiles, fingertips tingling with the need to burrow deep into the milky warmth of Harry's skin. "Perfect," he leans up to catch Harry's puffy lips with his, morning breath and all, proper romantic.

Harry hums happily, diving in and giving as good as he gets. He’s Louis’ guiding light, this boy is.

“Hey, sugar?” Louis watches mesmerized as Harry’s eyes stay closed and his lips stay pouted for more. When Harry opens up his eyes again with a grumpy huff, Louis makes sure he’s met with his best smile. “I love you.”

Harry’s stunning face goes blank for long enough that Louis feels ice running down his spine. He’s just staring at Louis, mouth a thin line and nostrils flared. Louis fucked up. Louis fucked this up. The only thing he cared about for the first time in ages, and he fucked it up because he’s a reckless jerk who coul-

Harry hits him with a pillow, knocking Louis down and climbing on top of his stomach to keep hitting him in the face. “I hate you!” he shouts, crazy tinting his voice.

“Can you, oh my god! Harry, stop! Stop it!” Louis rolls them over, keeping Harry beneath him with arms pinned and hips stilled. Strands of his hair are inside his mouth, his cheeks are rosy, and he’s thrashing under Louis’ hold muttering about how much he despites him. Harry could rip his heart out, and he’d still be an angel in Louis’ eyes. “Do you really hate me?”

“No, I don’t, you bastard!” He starts laughing. A real, whole-hearted laugh that jolts Louis from his perch on Harry’s lap. Don’t get Louis wrong, he thrives on making Harry laugh at any moment, but right now he’s really fucking confused.

“Harry, what the fuck.”

Harry rolls on his side, taking Louis with him and being a general ray of sunshine. Louis can’t stop admiring him even when he's making Louis crazy. "I love you, too, you absolute tosser!"

"You love me?"

"Yes!" Harry sing songs, still laughing. "I was going to say it first! I've been trying to tell you for a week, and I was just going to tell you. Like, right before you kissed me."

Something warm spreads through Louis' veins and he goes limp under Harry's touch. God, this boy is going to be the death of him. "I'm sorry?"

"We're a mess," Harry states happily, cuddling into Louis' chest and breathing out. Louis tries to sync up their heartbeats almost unconsciously.

"Yeah, we are," Louis agrees, letting himself enjoy the peacefulness that comes with having Harry in his arms. "Why didn't you tell me before?

Harry shrugs, kissing Louis' collarbone and spreading his fingers on Louis' skin. "I just wanted it to be perfect."

"Right, because shoving a gross smoothie down my throat is so romantic."

"It will be when we get to spend our 50th anniversary together with our fourteen grandkids, Louis!"

"Fifty years, huh?" It should surprise him how much he wants that, all that time with Harry, but it really doesn't. It's right.

"With eight kids and at least fourteen grandkids," Harry adds in promptly.

"That's an oddly specific number."

Harry smiles at him with galaxies in his eyes. "I don't think our kids would want to give us more, to be honest."

Louis tilts his chin up, kissing him with all the love he can muster into just a simple press of mouth to mouth. "You have it all planned out."

"I just know what I want. And that's you," Harry is too good to him sometimes, Louis can’t believe his luck. “Also, how romantic is it that we confessed our undying love for each other the day our marriage is like, official-official.”

“It feels like a lifetime away, like we’ve been together for longer than that.” Louis can’t say he doesn’t remember a life before Harry, because he does, even if it wasn’t that great for a while and he thought it would just be day after day of just nothing. But now Harry is here, and he’s the loveliest thing Louis could ever dream of. He can’t wait to see what each day will bring with Harry by his side.

That’s so cheesy, he has made him the cheesiest person living on this planet and Louis loves it.

"I know, feels like I've been loving you since the day we met."

***

Zayn decided to throw them a party. Because, apparently, Zayn throws parties. now.

And it's not actually his party but who cares. A friend he made in some part of Europe is celebrating something or the other, and Zayn invited them to the this posh roof party Louis is getting tired of.

At least he gets to shove his love for Harry in everyone's faces and Harry gets to show off his boobs, so it's fine.

Louis and Zayn are having a smoke, looking over the city lights and people mingling around. It's nice. Harry is somewhere discussing gardening and fertilizers with a bunch of kids that can't honestly be that into plants, but it's great fun seeing all these people caught on Harry. They try to keep his attention when all Harry does is look up to find Louis in the crowd every three minutes, giving him a huge smile, followed by a mouthed "I love you," that Louis yells back without fail.

Zayn snorts by his side. Louis resents how he makes snorting sound like a masterpiece to rival Beethoven's. "I'm embarrassed."

"You are charmed by our love story, Zayn. Stop lying to yourself."

Zayn shakes his head, blows out some smoke, and grins his silly smile, the one where he displays all of his nice teeth and leaves you breathless for a couple of seconds. "I am, a little bit. Santi would be proud of you."

Santi

Louis gets blindsided. His lungs close up as he thinks of Santi and his big brown eyes and crooked smile and parted chin, baby fat still clinging to his cheeks and hair golden like his skin. Louis pictures him, bright and loving gaze focused on him as the world spun around them.

Louis wishes he could tell Zayn that, yes, Santi would be proud. But, well, he wouldn't really know.

"He would have adored Harry," Zayn continues, chuckling at the ground.

That would have been a sight, Harry and Santi wrecking Louis' existence. "They would have driven me mad, shut up."

"I would have paid to see that."

"Of course you would, you live to see me suffer."

Zayn nudges his shoulder, taking Louis' eyes away from Harry and thoughts away from Santi. "Okay but I don't. I really do love seeing you happy, bro."

Louis sucks the cigarette and lets it drop to the ground as he exhales heavily. "You wouldn't believe how happy he makes me. Yesterday, he was on the phone with my mum talking about picking a good school for the twins, and I honestly just stood there, pinching myself because it all seemed too good to be true."

"You just gotta make it work, yeah? Last time Harry and I talked he mentioned something about getting a new place so, like, don't rush. Let it happen, you know?"

"So I'm not allowed to propose to him again?" He asks with a serious face that Zayn won't buy, but which will make him drop the subject. He's starting to miss Harry.

He just groans, and it's the most faked sound Louis has ever heard. "You wouldn't. This isn't even our party. You can't crash a party and hijack it with a cheesy proposal."

“If I do, you have to pay for our honeymoon.”

“I’m not paying shit, Louis.”

“Yeah, he’s not paying shit, Lou,” Harry shows up in front of him, like a mirage in a desert that Louis needs to get his hands on.

“Hi, baby,” Louis moves closer to his boy, seeking his tender, tired smile. ”Got all your gardening talk out?”

Harry giggles into Louis’ hair. “I don’t think they were that interested in my lilies, actually.”

“That’s too bad, I think your lilies are a wonderful topic.”

“I think I need more alcohol,” Zayn says, fond all over his face. It's the general look people generally have around them because Harry and Louis are adorable, and he’s not ashamed to admit that. “Let me know when you guys leave," and he walks away.

"Zayn would totally pay for our honeymoon," Harry tells him with a smirk and one his dimples popping out.

Louis is just about to tell Harry how they've got Zayn wrapped around their pinkies when some guy walks up to them. Well, the guy walks up to Harry, but his back is turned so Louis is the first to notice the hesitation on the guy's face before tapping Harry's shoulder. Louis grips Harry's waist tighter.

To Louis, it happens in slow motion. The guy taps Harry's shoulder, without bothering to acknowledge Louis' presence, and Harry's smile dims when he sees Louis is frowning. He spins on his heel to wave the person off, but instead he freezes, his spine goes rigid, and his breath stops. When he finally speaks, the sound wavers as he says, "Axel."

Then everything comes crashing down.

"Harry, hi," the guy, Axel, is smiling. He's smiling at Harry like he just bumped into an old friend and not the fiancé he left less than a month ago. "Fancy seeing you here."

Louis moves to stand by Harry's side, grip still tight and hard expression on his face. The Axel guy just looks at him, blinks, and goes back to looking at Harry.

If Louis had a drink in hand, he would have already thrown it in this asshole's face.

"Same. I don't remember you liking this kind of, uhm, thing," Harry fumbles, stumbling over his words and a blush creeping up his neck. Louis hates everything about this.

The Axel guy is scratching the back of his neck. Louis is sure he's openly scowling at him right now. "I've been trying a lot of new things, lately."

What a pretentious jackass.

Louis clears his throat, snapping Harry out of his little shocked trance. That Axel guy pays no mind, obviously, but Harry turns to him with an open mouth and glassy eyes.

"Right, right. Axel, this is Louis, he's uhm-"

"Your husband, I'm your husband," Louis says helpfully, giving Harry a little nod with a huge smile. He doesn't want to take his eyes away from Harry to gauge his reaction, but he kind of really wants to see Axel's face. "Pleased to meet you, Axel."

It's not a let down. Axel looks stricken, as if someone just slapped him and cursed him and his future generations. Louis can't say he's not pleased when the asshole's sight focuses on Harry taking Louis' hand in his.

"Yeah, he's my husband," Harry says with a breathless laugh, their hands clasped together for the whole world to see.

Axel sputters, "You got married!? When!?"

"Like three days after you left," Harry is happy to announce, shaking off the tension and straightening his back, tall and proud like he deserves to be.

"Well, you moved on quickly," there's a hint of sarcasm in his tone, and Louis will not be having that.

"He did, actually. He was the one who proposed during the sunrise. It was very romantic."

Axel frowns. "I don't understand this, Harry."

"Which part? The one where you left me and I moved on? Or the part where I'm not crying my eyes out over you like you expected me to?"

A surge of pride tides over Louis. He really wants to shout "That's my baby!" but that would be a bit much.

"Harry I-"

"Save it," Harry interrupts. "I don't really care what you have to say. Not anymore so, have a nice night." He tugs on Louis' hand, smiling brighter than the sun. "Ready to go home, babe?"

"Let's go." They slip away giggling like children, their steps thundering on the pavement as Harry presses him against a wall once they're out of anyone's sight.

"I love you," he giggles in the crook of Louis' neck.

"I'm proud of you," Louis tells him seriously, joining their lips to seal the message.

***

"Lou, c'mon," Harry whispers behind Louis' ear, his hand warm, heavy, and resting on Louis' thigh. His lips attach to Louis' neck as a reminder of what he could have if he really wanted it. "Let's have our own party."

Louis grunts, "Add that to the list of cheesiest line you've ever spoken," but he still grips the steering wheel until his fingers go numb and his vision clears like the wipers do to windshield of the car. He's trying to drive, get them home safely so he can spread Harry out on their mattress and eat him out until one of them passes out.  
And Harry is not helping, he's making it harder. Literally. The little whines he presses on Louis' neck hold too much power.

"Patience, love," Louis says calmly but sternly, hoping that Harry will listen so he can focus on the dark road ahead of them. "Almost there."

Harry doesn't listen. He never does, and much less when he's got his heart and mind set on something. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. Louis loves that about him, truly, but not right now when he's set on making Louis cum while he attempts to navigate through a fucking storm.

Sometimes Louis hates London a lot. Rain is a professional cockblocker, to be honest.

"You're so fit, Lou," Harry unlocks his seatbelt and scoots closer, palming Louis' dick through his nice trousers and humming contently when Louis hardens and tenses for him. Everything Louis does is always for him. "Want you so bad, all the time," he drawls out, as if he has all the time in world to tease him with just his voice.

Louis clears his throat, locks his jaw, and thinks about sad stuff, like his Rovers losing every game they've played so far. Definitely doesn't think about how good Harry is with his hands, how brilliant his fingers are at tearing Louis apart, all long and clever and magical. He's fine, it's all fine, and he can control himself. There's no need to pull over in the middle of nowhere so he can show Harry what a tease really is.

Biting his earlobe, Harry smiles against his shoulder. "Can't stop thinking about you, your cock inside me, filling me up," Louis shivers and presses back against Harry's hand. "Don't know how to stop, actually."

Louis groans, daring to glance at Harry. His heart stops for two full seconds as a lighting strikes and illuminates Harry's face. He's all parted, wine stained lips and disheveled hair, squirming in his place impatiently. A wicked glint in his eyes captures Louis' attention. God, he fucking loves that glint and the thrill it promises. "Someone had too many glasses of red, didn't you, baby?"

"No!" Harry answers petulantly, squeezing the tip of Louis' cock. "I just need you," he tacks on, quiet.

"Right now?" Louis says with narrowed eyes. He turns back to the road, cursing himself for forgetting his contacts. There's a heavy curtain of rain that doesn't let him see much other than the odd buildings and trees they pass quickly, but he really hopes they're close to home. He's starting to ache for Harry, too.

"Right now," Harry stresses quickly.

Louis smirks. "I suppose you can't wait any longer."

"Nope, I might die if I have to," Harry sucks a mark on his skin to prove his point. "And then you'll starve to death without your wonderful husband to keep you well fed."

"Oh, guess I'll have to get a younger and improved version of you. Yeah? Preferably one that's a good boy and listens to me," Louis manages to tease before he's getting pinched.

"I am a good boy," Harry defends, removing his hand from Louis' crotch to cross his arms over his chest. Louis peeks a little to confirm that his husband looks like a disgruntled kitten. "And you wouldn't be able to replace me. I am unique and you love me too much."

Louis crinkles his nose and smiles. "I do love you too much. I really do." They're so gross. Why are they so gross.

The words work like magic on Harry, who quickly sheds the disgruntled kitten look and changes it for a pleased, adorable one. "But not as much as I love you." With a silly grin, he kisses Louis' raspy cheek, nuzzling in the scruff that dusts it.

Louis is about to argue, has the words on the tip of his tongue, ready to list off all the reasons why he is madly in love with Harry and why there is no human who could love him as much as Louis does.

Instead, he thinks of Santi, who would have adored Harry and who Harry would have adored even more.

Louis has to park the car even though Harry is looking perplexed and worried.

Once he is sure they're safe and not moving anywhere, Louis faces Harry with determination.

"I was with someone, before meeting you," he blurts out, playing with his ring to get his thoughts clear. "His name was Santi and we, he, was amazing. He would have loved to meet you, honestly," Louis looks over to the droplets pelting the window and tries to calm down. "Anyways, he died. Like two years ago. Car accident. I wasn't there, but his family was and they- they didn't really like me or the fact that Santi was into boys so. I wasn't allowed to see him at the hospital and I wasn't allowed in the funeral. His mum kept his ashes and I just. After he was gone, I wasn't in a really good place."

"You were having a couple of rough years," Harry says under his breath.

Louis nods, inhales the cold air. "Yeah, I couldn't write and what I did write was shit. It's why everyone loves you, because you pulled me out of my misery and you didn't even know."

"Why are you telling me now, about Santi?" Harry asks quietly.

Louis shrugs and looks at him with teary eyes. "Just wanted you to see how much I do love you. Even if we haven't known each other for long, you mean more than the world to me."

"Oh, Lou," he cups Louis' face, thumbs away the tears that are starting to roll down his cheeks, and kisses both of them with reverence. "I know you love me. You didn't have to tell me anything you didn't want to."

"I did want to, though. I want us to work and have fifty years together and I want that house near Holmes you showed me for our brood of kids. I want it all with you."

"And we'll have it, I promise you we will have all of that and more." Harry knocks their foreheads together, face split up with his grin.

Louis loves him so damn much. "I can play you your song now."

"You can?" Harry lights up with excitement.

"Yes, just let me bring out Tashie." Disentangling himself from Harry, Louis reaches over to the back seat and takes his guitar to strap it around his back, smiling brightly when Harry shakes his head at him.

"I'm surprised you don't carry her around in a stroller."

"I probably should, she's my baby," he hands her over to Harry so he can step out of the car, rain soaking him instantly but Louis doesn't care, he's committed to this.

"Oh my God! What are you doing?" Harry yelps, sliding over the driver's seat to pull Louis back in. "You're gonna catch a cold Louis."

But he's not that quick, so Louis just takes the guitar and steps out of his reach, leaving him pouting and glowering. "If I catch a cold it will be for love, darling. Now shut up and listen."

"We're a rom-com. We're actually a rom-com," is the last thing Harry says before Louis raises his eyebrows and Harry pretends to zip his lips closed.

"Okay well, here it goes."

It's not a great song, Louis has to admit, but he's been working on it like he's never worked on anything before and he just really hopes Harry doesn't hate it.

Plucking the first note, Louis closes his eyes and lets himself show his love for Harry the best way he knows how.

_"Oh well in five years time we could be walking round a zoo_   
_With the sun shining down over me and you_   
_And there'll be love in the bodies of the elephants too_   
_And I'll put my hands over your eyes, but you'll peep through_

_And there'll be sun sun sun all over our bodies_   
_And sun sun sun all down our necks_   
_And sun sun sun all over our faces_   
_And sun sun sun -so what the heck!"_

Louis can hear Harry laughing and clapping, delighted. Alright, so it doesn't suck that much.

_"Cos I'll be laughing at all your silly little jokes_   
_And we'll be laughing about how we used to smoke_   
_All those stupid little cigarettes and drink stupid wine_   
_Cos it's what we needed to have a good time_

_And it was fun fun fun when we were drinking_   
_It was fun fun fun when we were drunk_   
_And it was fun fun fun when we were laughing_   
_It was fun fun fun, oh it was fun_

_Oh well I look at you and say_   
_It's the happiest that I've ever been_   
_And I'll say I no longer feel I have to be James Dean_   
_And he'll say_   
_"Yah well I feel all pretty happy too"_   
_And I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you_

_And it'll be love love love all through our bodies_   
_And love love love all through our minds_   
_And it be Love love love all over his face_   
_And Love love love all over mine_

_Although maybe all these moments are just in my head_   
_I'll be thinking ‘bout them as I'm lying in bed_   
_And all that I believe, it might not even come true_   
_But in my mind I'm havin' a pretty good time with you_

_In five years time I might not know you_   
_In five years time we might not speak_   
_In five years time we might not get along_   
_In five years time you might just prove me wrong_

_Oh there'll be love love love_   
_Wherever you go_   
_There'll be love"_

"I love it!" Harry exclaims before Louis is even done with the last note. He jumps out of the car and throws himself at Louis, who's really not prepared at all to hold his guitar and his Harry. "Thank you for singing to me in the pouring rain."

"Anytime, Hazza," Louis hold him close once there's nothing in the way, kissing him like there's no tomorrow.

"Take me home and fuck me in our bed while you sing that song. C'mon c'mon."

"I should've written a song about your morning blowjobs," Louis comments, getting dragged back into the car by Harry who's nodding along eagerly.

"And make Liam sing it all around the world, too," he says with a devilish grin.

This boy is Louis' soulmate. "I love you so much, wow."

"Me too," Harry kisses his cheek and pushes Louis to his seat. "But, really, take us home."

"God, I can't wait for the next fifty years."

_**FIN** _

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think! thank you for reading x


End file.
